


Promises, Promises

by JazzKat1213



Series: We’ve Made It This Far [5]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: A character gets as close to death as in the show, Adora Has Issues (She-Ra), Angst, Canon Compliant, Catra Has Issues (She-Ra), Catra doing cat things, Catra has PTSD, Cuddling & Snuggling, Darla - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Graphic Depictions of Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, Lesbians in Space, Making Out, Marriage Proposal, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Overused references to Princess Prom, POV Catra (She-Ra), Post-Canon, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Season 5 Spoilers, Space Battle, Swearing, Switch!Adora, Switch!Catra, There's so many I Love Yous it's ridiculous, They actually get a break, They kiss a lot in this one lads, Wedding, and there was only one bed, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 55,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24372535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzKat1213/pseuds/JazzKat1213
Summary: “Well a wife, or a husband, is when two people who are in love decide to dedicate themselves to each other for the rest of their lives-”“-It’s a promise?”He smiled, “Yeah, it’s a promise to love each other forever. There’s a whole ceremony where it’s made official, letting everyone know that they’ve chosen each other.”Catra smiled, it sounded nice. Sounded similar to a promise she and Adora had made so many years ago, but theirs held none of the permanence.Promises were always at the heart of their relationship, Catra had known that from the beginning. 'I promise I'll protect you' 'I promise I'll always be your friend'. Maybe some had fallen apart, but some had stayed. And by the gods would she try and keep every last one.---Series of one shots about promises in their relationship. Almost all of it is from Catra's POV.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Netossa/Spinnerella (She-Ra)
Series: We’ve Made It This Far [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759741
Comments: 72
Kudos: 365





	1. Isn't This Us?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scene I though was missing from season 5. As soon as Netossa and Spinnerella were in the same room as Catra I was kinda waiting for something like this to go down.  
> So right after Perfuma and Catra talk at the end of Return to the Fright Zone there's a cut and I imagined that a night passed so this is that night.

“I’m going to stay with my wife, I want to be here when she wakes up.”

Catra's walking by (what is left of) the Rebellion's makeshift infirmary, not meaning to really overhear, but her ears prick up all the same. It developed from years of constant vigilance mixed with already heightened senses, it used to be a survival instinct, now merely a useful, if a little annoying habit.  
“Okay, we’ll bring you some food,” she can hear the softness of Bow’s voice. He's comforting without any ulterior motives. Catra still finds it strange despite the weeks, maybe even months that had gone by while they were trapped on a spaceship together. She’d found his innate kindness bordering on unsettling when he and Glimmer had ‘kidnapped’ her (if you could really call it that, they were awful at it) a few years ago, it was now a reliable comfort. Something unchanging. 

Catra assumes Netossa must have nodded in response because she doesn't hear anything else. Bow’s footsteps patter softly on the ground as he walks over to where the food is now being served. She stays in the shadows, trying to see if she can recall the word ‘wife’ - she can't. Yet another thing she doesn't know, Princess talk is weird. Maybe she'll ask later, maybe she won't, maybe it's relevant, maybe it isn't. Why does everything have to be so uncertain?

Catra knows that Bow and Glimmer have come back with news, news they'll share in the morning. They don't look as downtrodden as they had when they’d left so she assumes something somewhat good must’ve happened. In fact, all things considered, today had gone pretty well. Sure, she’d had to relive some water-based trauma and she’d been thrown across a room by Scorpia’s newfound Princess magic that just happened to be the same one used throughout her childhood by someone she’d really rather not think about. 

But they’d gotten an ally, some information and Adora was okay. Catra had even begun to befriend the plant Princess, who is a lot more fearsome than Catra had thought given her peppy demeanor. She and Scorpia are perfect for each other. The thought of Scorpia still stings with a whirlwind of feelings, most prominently overwhelming guilt and regret. Gods she hopes Scorpia's going to be okay, she doesn't deserve any of this. 

Catra looks at Adora, making her way from her bedroll to the gathering. She looks awake enough, her hair just slightly out of place, Catra smiles to herself in the shadows. Maybe she’d ask her about it - what wife meant. Just not today. Adora has the next watch with Swift Wind after eating, no need for Catra to distract her with meaningless questions right now. No, she's content to join them, even if she still feels out of place. All Catra’s relationships here are rocky at best, but she's trying dammit. And that's better than anything she’s done before. The simmer of conversation doesn't hush when she nears. It's still unsettling but only in that she isn't used to it. But she's not really used to anything here so she handles it. And it's nice...good even. 

Adora sits with her, as always. Some comforts she’ll never get tired of. She's missed this easiness with Adora. She's missed her, period. Missed her eyes and her smile and her warmth and even her righteous pacing when she's particularly restless.

Bow hands her...whatever it is they're eating. She watches Adora eat from within her peripherals, she may have stolen food in the Fright Zone, but she's still mildly distrusting of any food that isn't grey, brown or bar shaped. If she lets her discomfort show, Glimmer will probably tease her for it. But it would be okay, she reasons, because it wouldn’t be malicious. And maybe Adora would laugh as well. And after almost three years, anything to have that sound back is worth it. She's beyond pleased that Melog doesn't reflect _all_ of her winding thoughts where they gleefully wind around her feet. 

They aren't talking battle plans, or any plans at all, just smiling and laughing quietly at stories, careful to adjust them if need be for Frosta. Catra smiles too, smiles at Adora’s little snorts of laughter and the ways her eyes still widen like they did as a child’s when she's hearing a new story. Catra doesn't think she’d ever heard a story in the Horde that wasn’t about the villainy and terror of the Princesses or the horrors of Beast Island - which Adora and Bow describe as apparently just as bad if not worse than the Horde made it out to be. It makes her feel a hot rush of guilt whenever she sees Entrapta. The First Ones really did fuck up the planet if they managed to make that monstrous place on accident. And she fucked up as a friend for sending Entrapta there.

Some time later Glimmer redoes the spell for the fire where it had started to weaken just as Sea Hawk and Perfuma come in from their shift. Catra tries not to be disappointed when Adora’s warmth leaves her side, and then tries not to react at all as her hand sweeps lightly across her shoulder. A throwaway gesture that makes her heart rate pick up. Adora really has no idea what she does to her. And she would have succeeded in hiding that if Melog hadn’t rubbed against Adora’s legs as she's leaving.  
_'Traitor.'_

But she can't even be angry when Adora gives her a soft smile on her way out. And Catra can't help but wish she was joining them. Or just Adora, yeah, just Adora would be better. The loud, rainbow, _talking horse_ has yet to grow on her. But like everyone else here, he cares about Adora; she'll deal with it.

* * *

She quickly finds the highest point in the metal-cased cave, and claims it as her own, if only because no one else but Glimmer will get able to get up there easily. Her tail swings smoothly through the air as she climbs. She sits at the top, Melog settling beside her as she listens intently to the outside. Silence. There's nothing, no suspicious rustling of leaves, only the soft pad of foot and hoof every so often. She sighs, watching the dissipating group of rebels below, all of them also looking out for Adora now. The outside light fades to cold blue-black as she sits, mulling around in her own thoughts.

Catra guesses she'll have to get used to not being the only person trying to protect Adora, and she will get used to it, eventually. Deep down she knows that she'll always think of it as her job. It always has been and will always be, despite all the pain and betrayals and the...the heartbreak. At least for Catra. Still, it's the only thing she's ever truly really wanted; to protect Adora. To keep her safe, make her happy. And yes that want had gotten twisted and corrupted and poisoned but from now on she'll protect Adora from anything and everything. She’ll sacrifice everything for her, give her life a hundred times over for her. It's the least Adora deserves. And besides, she's already done it on Prime’s - she cuts herself off. Thinking about the consequences of her sacrifice will do no good right now. The burning of acid green water as it had flooded her throat is still too new and raw to think about, the ghost of electricity in the back of her neck buzzes uncomfortably. She shuts her eyes against it, trembling slightly, claws digging into her arms. Melog says nothing, shape shifting smaller as they place their head in Catra’s lap as a means of comfort. It works. It's nice having someone else around for comfort, someone who she doesn't have to explain her feelings to. 

Bow does indeed take some of the food to Netossa and a (as far as she's aware) still-sleeping Spinnerella, but he returns to the magical fire quickly. He hugs Glimmer before she walks wearily to her own bedroll, she's one of the last to do so, some already sleeping soundly. Entrapta is still working away at...whatever. Catra doesn't think she’s ever seen the woman sleep. She jumps down, Melog following before curling down on her bedroll, half-hidden away from the rest in a small alcove. The others had understood her need to be away it seemed, most of them still as uncomfortable with her presence as she is. It's empty and lonely without Adora sleeping on the cot closest, near enough for Catra to hear her breathe and snore lightly (which she _did_ , even if she wouldn’t admit it.) 

Bow turns at the soft sound of her landing. She doesn't exactly feel like talking right now, but figures it's the nicer thing to do. And she's trying to be better, be better for Adora, and herself.  
“Hey.”  
“Hey.”  
Catra sits opposite him, both of them staring into the spell rune on the floor. “You should be sleeping,” she says quietly.  
“I could say the same about you.”  
“Yeah, well I grew up on a lack of sleep, you..." Bow yawns. “Not so much, apparently.”  
“Figured someone’s got to stay up and watch Entrapta.”

He has a point, something clatters to the ground by the scientist's work station, but no one so much as stirs. Catra looks behind to the women in the infirmary; Netossa is still awake, wilting, but awake, and still looking at Spinnerella. Catra wonders if she ever takes her eyes off her. Something prickles in the back of her mind, something about Adora. She ignores it. It's harder than it used to be. 

She'd built up a wall of denial as thick as possible when they were growing up, and it held, it worked. And then Adora left. And that wall crumbled a little more everyday, every intrusive, unwanted thought about her came crawling back in the dead of night after their eyes had met across a battlefield. But it was fine, she pushed it down even further in her reoccurring heartbreak. But having her back? She wasn't prepared for it. The wall wasn't up and she'd given in - she'd let Adora hold her again. She's been wrestling with the wall's construction ever since.  
_'Hiding how you feel is what got you in this mess.'_  
_'She can't know this. I just got her back, I can't lose her again.'_

She drags herself out of her own head. “Netossa can probably keep an eye on Entrapta for you, doubt she’s going to be sleeping while,” she pauses, unsure if she's using the word correctly, “Her wife is asleep.”  
Bow raises his eyebrows, some tired copy of shock, “You know what a ‘wife’ is? You’re already doing better than Adora. I remember when she met Castaspella for the first time, didn’t even know what aunt was.” He huffs a laugh and it makes Catra’s tail flick behind her with her own discomfort.  
She grits her teeth, she doesn't want to say it. “Bow, I _don’t_ know what an aunt is. Or a wife for that matter. There weren't a lot of things the Horde was good at, training you for weapons usage was about it. Oh and hating Princesses."

He looks almost embarrassed, red dusting his cheeks in the low-light, “Oh, sorry. Well, um, if one of your parents has a sister, that makes her your aunt. And if your parent has a brother then they’re your uncle.” Catra nods, not exactly sure how useful the information is, but paying attention all the same. Bow continues, “Well a wife, or a husband, is when two people who are in love decide to dedicate themselves to each other for the rest of their lives, it's like a-”  
“- Like a promise?”

He smiles, “Yeah, it’s a promise to love each other forever. There’s a whole ceremony where it’s made official, letting everyone know that they’ve chosen each other.”  
Catra smiles, it sounds nice. Sounds similar to a promise she and Adora had made so many years ago, but theirs held none of the permanence. And they weren't - aren't - in love, or at least Adora isn't. The remembrance of the memory is still bittersweet as so many things seem to be now, but that particular memory alone caused so much strife to her, most of the resulting suffering her own fault. She can admit that now. She feels her ears flatten and her tail flick.

“Is anyone else here…husband and wife, or whatever?”  
“No. They’re the only ones married. People usually get married later in life, we’re all a bit young. Well, that and the war probably puts people off a little.”  
“Okay well, thanks, Bow. For explaining.”  
He smiles wider, Catra didn’t even know that was possible. Maybe she’d never thanked him before, she doesn't remember. “You’re welcome, Catra. But I _will_ get some sleep,” he says, voice softer with drowsiness.  
“I’m going to stay up a while longer.” She tries to make sure her eyes don't flick to the entrance, she fails.  
Bow’s hand is on her shoulder, it makes her jump slightly even if she saw it coming, “She’ll be fine.” He doesn't say anything else, just walking over to Glimmer before lying down. Catra knows she’ll be fine. She is. She has to be. 

When Catra wakes up in the morning Adora is asleep near her, and oh does everything feel so much better. She can't even begrudge Melog for sleeping on Adora, after all, it's something she's wanted for so very long; to sleep in the same bed again, for that closeness she craved but hated herself for. Some part of her wants to go back to 'the before', to when she’d creep down from her bunk to sleep at Adora’s feet, or those few times when she was broken enough to sleep next to her. Those nights were rare, and the most vulnerable she had ever been around anyone, those nights were special in the worst way and maybe she'd never have them again. She’ll take whatever she can get, whatever Adora is willing to give. Sleeping this close is already infinitely better than having the walls of both Brightmoon and the Fright Zone between them. At least she can still hear the puff of her breath on her pillow.

Catra feels something like hope by the time everyone is up and fed. Light is streaming steadily through the gaps in the natural curtain. Bow and Glimmer have explained about the failsafe - it means they might actually have a chance. And Adora is just so happy, ecstatic, it's practically contagious. She feels herself smile without her permission, but she schools it back into position quickly.  
  


“We know where it is.” That unsettling lull of a voice lands heavy on her, the sound alone drives her directly into a black place she wishes to leave behind, that she's been trying so hard to claw her way out of. Of course she's here. Catra will never get a damn break, this is why she never let herself be too happy. This stupid shadow. Rage boils up quickly, no matter how hard she is trying, this woman, this beast will drag her back. She'll make sure of it. She corrupts everything she touches, she always will. Nothing good ever comes from her. 

This is going to be bad. Bad for her, bad for Adora, maybe even everyone. And somehow help only herself. If Catra ever needed to protect Adora, then maybe this is it. She _will_ protect her from this monster that would see their past be their future.

_‘Nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other’_  
_‘You promise?’_  
_‘I promise.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapters are all longer than this, they also have a lot more plot and catradora.  
> 


	2. Up In Our Bedroom After The War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few days after they return to Brightmoon, Catra's never been happier.

They're lying in _their bed_ , in _their room_ , in Brightmoon. Catra never thought she’d end up here, not in Brightmoon, not in Adora’s arms and cocooned in her scent and her heartbeat. Autumn light filters softly through tall purple curtains. Too fucking much purple and pink and glitter, Catra understands it's Gimmer’s castle but still, there has to be a limit. Gods, _castle_ , she lives in a fucking castle. A glittery Princess castle, it's almost embarrassing to think about. Even if said castle is still broken in places from an army of clones and chipped citizens residing within the walls. The memory of everything is still fresh, but it's getting fixed. And for the first time they can all just breathe; they have time. 

Adora’s even breath on her neck stutters as she wakes. Catra turns over carefully, wanting to see her blink her eyes open, wanting to see it every morning for the rest of her life.  
“Hey Catra.” Blue-grey eyes look into hers, voice rough with sleep.  
“Hey Adora.” Sleep is quickly replaced with smiles. Gods her heart aches for all the years she didn’t have this. She can't fight off the purr rising inside her and she doesn't have to, not anymore.

It's moments like this when Catra thinks of promises, broken and unbroken, new and old, said and unsaid. Ever since the Heart they’d promised to never leave each other again, and by the Gods would Catra try everything in her power to keep to it. Hands in her hair bring her away from such thoughts, pulling her back to the now. Back to the lips that flutter down from her forehead to her mouth.  
“Promise we get to have this forever?” Catra whispers in between kisses.  
“I promise.”

* * *

“Catra you’ve got to get off, I’ve got a meeting. Well, technically _we’ve_ got a meeting, so get up.”  
She doesn't want to, because despite living her whole life on a schedule she really does like late mornings. She likes not having to worry about who might find them wrapped up in bed with each other. The amounts of mornings Adora had woken her unbearably early so that they would be found alone in their own beds was uncountable. But there's a stark difference between a teenage Adora shoving her roughly as she leans over the bed to wake her and the Adora now who squeezes her tighter to wake her. She much prefers this way.   
And Adora is right, of course, they do have to get up. There's still enough time for Catra to mess with her though, at least a little bit. Adora may be sitting up but Catra is still sprawled across the bed with her head in her lap like a dead weight. Bits of Adora’s ponytail are hanging free, circling her face in gold. Catra twirls a piece of it around her fingers, basking in the way Adora smiles at her, the warmth in her eyes.

She pouts, “Aw, what’s wrong Princess? Don’t like being here with me?” She makes her point by rubbing her face into her stomach, and resting retracted claws on Adora’s sides, grabbing a laugh from her. It cuts through the silence like a swing of Adora’s sword, lighting her up from the inside like magic. Catra knows she's ticklish but so rarely did she get to utilize this weakness of hers.  
“Okay stop! Stop!” Adora rests her hands on Catra’s face, stoking gently along fine fur, pulling a purr into the quiet air of their bedroom. “We really do have to go though.”  
She sighs, “I know.”  


As she gets dressed, she looks over to Melog curled up on a mountain of cushions in the corner of the room. She feels almost bad about making the cat sleep in the same room as them, it's weird being the only person in the whole of Brightmoon who understands them. It also makes it a little weird to share a room. When the castle is better repaired she'll get them a room close to hers and Adora's. They certainly have the space.

After years in the Fright Zone - her whole life in fact - the cool, unpolluted air of Brightmoon is still incredibly foreign. Catra breathes it in heavily as she pulls back the thick curtains. The sky is blue, not grey or green or orange or yellow.  
She can remember the first time she’d seen blue sky, being a reckless, hurting teenager running away from Shadow Weaver, from Adora, and...everything really. It was the first time she’d dared to go beyond the edges of the Fright Zone, stealing a vehicle she didn’t know the name of yet because she hadn’t been paying attention when they told her. The results of an afternoon with Shadow Weaver sat heavy in her bones, fear and the need to just escape driving her forward when rational thought started to creep back in.

The controls weren’t hard and she was a fast learner even then, more for her own survival than anything else. Still, she hadn't gone that far the first time, scared of the unknowable deserted expanse ahead of her. Shock had been the most prominent emotion, she’d pulled the machine to a sudden stop and simply stared. She’d hopped off the thing and onto one of the gnarled stone-like structures that clawed their way out of the sand and dust. Her small body clinging to it with wide eyes. It felt like a lifetime that she had stayed there, just...at peace for maybe the first time in her life. Her thoughts had gone quiet when she realised the size of the world beyond green walls.

She remembered both what Shadow Weaver did when she found out that she’d stolen a skiff (she'd told herself to remember the name in case she had to steal one again) and the mesmerized look on Adora’s face when she told her late the next night under the protection of thin bed covers. She told Catra that she’d have to show her the sky some day - another promise. She hadn’t broken that one.

But that was then, now the sky is ahead of her and she can't see an end. She’s never felt more relaxed, she can hear the shuffling of Adora changing behind her, the running of clean water, white noise. Clean water, _clean_. Catra never knew how bad they had it, clean water is everywhere here, not just for drinking. It's the little things that astound Catra at the oddest of moments. Like the thud and click of flat shoes on cold stone instead of the clang of uniform boots on warm metal. The flap of wings and laughs carried through wind instead of the growl of machinery and whir of weapons in stagnant air. Catra has never been in so many open spaces with so few people in her life.

“It took me a while to get used to the noises as well.” Adora wraps her arms around her waist after speaking, resting her head on her shoulder. The familiar feel of Adora’s white shirt, that same damn shirt, against her exposed arms is a blessing in that moment. Just something to make everything feel at least a little bit similar to any other time in her life.  
“It’s almost the lack of noise. Everything is hollow and quiet and open.”  
“When repairs are further along I think people will come back, it wasn’t always this empty.”

Catra purrs quietly. She's still getting used to the idea that she can in fact do that again - can let her happiness show. She revels silently in the warmth of Adora, the warmth of the sun. There's so much more energy around them, magic flows everywhere, in everything. Sometimes Catra thinks that the sheer amount of it will make her fur go static, but it doesn't, it stays in the surface like an electric current. But Adora is correct in her theory, because even from their secluded balcony Catra can see a small procession of inhabitants returning, can see the way some of them limp from injury. It's all over, these people can get help.

Fingertips run softly up and down her arms, rubbing her fur the wrong way before smoothing it back down. A hand winds softly with hers before Adora drags her away from the rest of the world and back into the room behind, she makes a weak sound of protest as she goes, not really fighting it at all.  
“Do you really want Glimmer to teleport in here shouting about why we aren’t at the meeting?”  
She sighs, “I suppose not. _‘If I have to do all these boring meetings Adora then so do you!’_ ” she mocks lightly. 

It makes Adora smile, and although messing with Sparkles is fun, she knows they really should get going to that boring meeting with some ambassador of Glitter Town, or wherever they were coming from. Melog's lucky that they don't have to attend, not being able to speak to anyone else and all, they still sleep soundly in the corner of their room, completely unaffected by all the noise they made. 

A mischievous smile creeps onto Adora's face as she disentangles their hands, “Race you.”  
She's out the door and down the corridor by the time Catra shouts: “Gods! You're the mighty She-Ra how are you still such a child!" (She's already running after her.) "And no fair I don’t even know the way!”

She knows she would win this race if she actually knew the fucking way, she's always been faster. And Adora is clearly using that fact to her advantage, twisting through identical hallways. The sound of their laughter carries down hallways with the gentle clatter of footfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really tried to keep angst light but it's really the only way I knew how to make this longer.  
> And yeah I edited it because I've been watching a lot of 'Adora being Adora' videos.  
> Next one wasn't originally planned but just kinda happened so it's gonna take a little longer for me to write. Chapter 4 is gonna be the long and angsty one.


	3. Dreams Still Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The subconscious isn't a very good friend. In fact Catra would rather it shut the fuck up.  
> One month after settling into their new lives, both Adora and Catra are revisited by some old habits in the dead of night.
> 
> Catra and Adora sharing a bed feat. Melog and Catra doing cat things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both of them kinda have PTSD so I guess that's a trigger warning?

She dreams of black and red and purple. Of swarming sea’s of black and shadowy tendrils clawing at her, immobilising and stinging with electricity. Red lightning crackling in the air with evil intentions. She thinks she can hear it - it’s taunting her with words of love she’ll never hear. Powerless and hopeless, her dream body goes limp because even it knows there’s no way to fight, simply the need to endure and survive. The pain a familiar inevitability in a consciousness that never seems to end. 

She dreams of red and blue and white and black. Hatred and betrayal in crimson red eyes, blood starts pouring out from them. Burning heat of blasts pressed close to her skin. The smell of smoke and melting metal and singed hair running rampant, making her eyes water. Tears evaporate like ghosts. Fire. So much fire. It radiates outwards from her in waves. She hears shrill screams that aren’t hers. A roar from behind rumbles through her head but she can’t turn and find the source, even if she knows already who made it. Disdain and lies and selfishness, consequences and hurt and anger. Red and purple figures in the distance muddled like they're underwater, she wants to scream apologies till her throat runs raw but she can’t say anything, can’t make any noise at all, smoke and fire consuming all sound. 

She dreams of white and black, of green, bright and electric. Of burning planets and stars just beyond reach. Endless corridors that stretch longer the further she walks. Inescapable green eyes in a hundred bodies boring into her soul, she could lie - but he would know. And still she does it anyway, silver pipes with blade-sharp needles fly towards her like bullets and then blackness. No - whiteness. Pristine white that shatters as she touches it only to reform perfectly, she's inconsequential. She means nothing to him. She can't hurt him. Drowning. Burning and coughing, the knowledge that she's going to die or something much worse. Green, so much green, so much -  
  


“Adora!”  
“I’m here, Catra, I’m here.” Adora sits up swiftly beside her, not touching. Her shout had awoken Melog who slinks closer, glowing a soft red from her anxiety. Their paws come to rest on her legs, ruby eyes jewels in the dark. Her hair is clinging close to her forehead with sweat, her breaths painful as she sucks air down. She's not drowning. She's not drowning again.  
They mewl, _“You're okay.”_ in their strange alien tongue. She doesn't believe them.

He's not here. Prime and Shadow Weaver are gone, even Hordak is rotting away in a cell in the Kingdom of Snows. She's safe. So why are there tears rolling steadily down her face? Her breath is ragged and raw, thick with remembered pain.

"I'm gonna touch you now okay?"  
She thinks she nods because warmth presses up against her right side, grounding and familiar and undeniably present. Hands run softly down her back and through her hair, waiting for her breath to level. She feels incredibly vulnerable, almost unbearably so with her shoulders and back mostly bare in black Brightmoon-given sleep clothes. Melog’s face butts against her knees as they move to curl into a burgundy ball at the edge of the bed, colours morphing back to cyan. She isn't proud of pathetic whimpers that find their way into the silence, not swallowed by the flow of water on the balcony. Adora’s chin lands carefully on her shoulder, she gives her time to pull away if she needs it. Catra doesn't, what she needs is Adora around her, looking at her, telling her truths she seems to have forgotten. She twists her head, seeing night-blackened eyes looking up at her. 

Honestly she's surprised it took this long for her dreams to become as corrupted as she's used to. She's no stranger to reliving distorted memories of Shadow Weaver or even Hordak. But Prime is new and fresh and so much worse. He brought her to the brink of something worse than death and she hasn't even begun to forget it. There are so many things she wants to forget. 

Her memories may be muddled and covered in a lime green haze but she knows what she did under his control. The feeling of clone hands cutting her hair and dressing her is still particularly tangible, it makes her run her hands through said hair just to make sure it isn't slicked back in any way. That also means she remembers giving Adora the scars that run deep in her back, healing steadily with She-Ra’s magical influence. One day they’ll be gone completely, she knows, just like the ones she’d given her a few years ago. Those eight scratches now thin pale white lines. But for now the new ones are there, a glaring red reminder of all the pain she’d caused.

They really should’ve figured something was up with Adora in the Horde when her scars and cuts and bruises she acquired from training would seem to fade quicker than everyone else's. She was the only one in their barracks that remained unscarred throughout her teen years, skin flawless. She didn’t even get blemishes, much to Kyle’s dismay. Perfect Adora.

Since arriving in Brightmoon Catra had, had time to muse the idea that Adora’s latent She-Ra abilities had manifested prior to her finding the sword. She was sure she had woken up a few times with less injuries than the night previous if she’d fallen asleep curled up with her at night.  
  


Adora turns her, hands unbelievably gentle on her shoulders, she feels like she melts when she meets her eyes properly. Adora never really grasped how well she could see in the dark, or maybe she just forgot. She can see the blue of her eyes even in this low light, so full of love and worry and understanding, even if the colour is disrupted by Melog’s glow that casts the whole room into soft blue.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she tries to make herself sound reassuring, like everything is fine. And everything is fine, nothing she can't handle. Adora doesn't seem to buy it annoyingly.  
“I know you always had bad dreams, I think we both did, but you didn’t use to call out my name.” She brushes a stray piece of hair back from Catra’s face. “Probably a good thing though, Lonnie wouldn’t exactly have been nice about it. You remember all the things she said when she found out we would sleep in the same bed. Think she was just jealous of how close we were…”  
Looking back on it, Lonnie being jealous made a lot more sense, made it funnier too. But gods Adora doesn't know the _half_ of what she went through when she left. Catra hasn't told her everything, trying to save at least some of her dignity. Except now it's just embarrassing all over again, she's glad that Adora can't see her blush too well in the dark (and that Melog isn't showing anything either). 

Adora kisses her cheek, it never fails to make her breath hitch, “Do you want to tell me what you were dreaming about?”  
She's proud of herself for only the brief moment of hesitation. “Shadow Weaver, Hordak trying to kill me, Prime’s acid bath. Y’know the usual. Just worse than it's been since coming here. He really ruined the colour green for me.”  
Melog rubs their head deeper into the blanket, mumbling incoherently with tiredness. She feels the same way.

“Well if Glimmer decides she wants to change up the castle's colour scheme I’ll make sure green’s not even considered.”  
“She was on that ship with me you dork. Don’t think Sparkles is going to be picking out electric green for a back-splash anytime soon.” Well if anything was proof that Brightmoon was changing her it was the fact that she knew what a 'back-splash' was now. Stupid Princesses were making her go soft.  
“Either way, I’ll try and nudge her towards red.”  
It's so stupid. But Adora’s attempt at trying to cheer her up is working slowly and she really is trying not to shy away from talking about it. She had promised to accept Perfuma’s advice from when they’d talked on a communication pad a week or so ago. “Did I tell you I remember what happened when I was chipped?” she asks quietly.  
“Well seeing as everyone else does, I did figure, but no you never told me.”  
“Well I do,” she glides a shaking hand over Adora’ thigh, remembering the shape of scratches she’d carved.

Those hadn’t even remained after She-Ra had appeared, only the outermost layers of tissue had been damaged, lots of pain but only a little amount of blood and damage. Easy for magic to erase. She doesn't harbor much guilt about what she did when she was chipped, she doesn't have the time or effort to feel guilty about things that had happened outside of her own control. Especially when there were so many worse things she’d done of her own choice. 

She's making up for them, one by one. She’s already gained Glimmer, Bow, Entrapta and Scorpia’s forgiveness. Or at least some of it. It gives her hope that she can win over the other Princesses, even if she could maybe use a break from them all. She can't help random increases in heart rate when she realises that she's in ‘enemy’ territory. _Relaxed and happy_ in enemy territory. She wonders how Adora had done it, they’d both grown up with all the stories of evil Princesses, she must’ve gone through an adaptation period. She’ll have to ask Bow about it. He’ll probably have some fun stories. Although it was probably helped by the fact that Adora had never actually fought a Princess before defecting and that she was one herself. Catra had been second in command to their defeated enemy and had fought (and tried to kill) them all multiple times, and yeah, it was kind of putting a damper on the speed of progress but still, it's only been a month since the war ended. She knows no one blames her for being ill-adjusted.  
  


Upon realising she isn't going to say anymore Adora lies back down on their bed. “Come on, it’s late.” She tugs at Catra’s hand, dragging her gently down as well till the cat is half on her stomach and purring.  
“You know I can see you smiling right?”  
Adora hums, “Don’t care.” Catra’s arm comes to wrap around her waist, face burying into her neck and breathing her scent in heavily where it's strongest. Melog isn't echoing her purrs at the end of the bed, already asleep again.

“You’re safe. I promise that no one here is going to hurt you.”  
Catra curls in tighter beneath her chin, heartbeats and the rumble of her own purring loud in her ears. “I’m not used to that being true.”  
“I know. But you will.”  
“I love you Adora.”  
“I love you too.”  
  


She tries to sleep, she really does. She waits and waits, listening out for Adora’s little sleep snores to start up. But they don't, her breath remains ordinary and suspiciously not sleep-smoothed. She pulls her head back only to find Adora’s eyes open and looking at her. 

“You’re still awake.”  
“I was waiting for you to fall back to sleep.”  
She scrubs a hand over her face, “I don’t know if I’m gonna fall back to sleep tonight.”  
“Well if you don’t then I won’t either. We’ll stay up like we used to. Except we don’t even have to whisper because it’s _our room_ and we’re not sharing it with ten other people.” The quiet, childish excitement in her voice is infectious, Catra begrudgingly smiles into the darkness.  
“Sure.”  
“Great.” Adora kisses her once quickly before getting up for a candle and placing it on a surface near the bed. Catra bundles the available blankets into a messy circle for them. “I’m sure we could go get some snacks from the kitchen if we want. And we won't even get in trouble.” It looks like Adora is genuinely debating it but no, it's too late, she's already made a place for her on the bed.  
“No. Too warm. Come here,” she takes Adora’s hands, guiding her back into the blanket cocoon she’s made, kissing her with more force than she maybe should have. Adora doesn't seem to mind until she lets go and sits back. She smiles again at the slightly shocked and blushing face of her girlfriend - they're _girlfriends_! She’ll never be over the thrill of it. “We couldn't do that on our sleepovers could we?”  
Catra doesn't think she could get any cuter and yet...Adora giggles lightly, “No.” 

They sit opposite each other, legs crossed and touching, foreheads pressed together, smiling like idiots. Catra sighs loudly, prompting Adora to squint her eyes at her, she's probably going to regret this.  
“After you left I’d do that sometimes - call out your name when I had nightmares. I fucking hated it. Everyone would make jokes about it, except Kyle, got this dumb look on his face whenever he saw me. He pitied me. I got pitied by fucking _Kyle_ , Adora. That might’ve been my lowest point honestly.”  
“Not trying to destroy reality?” She knows Adora still worries about bringing up the worst things. And she has a good reason to, Catra knows she tenses up at the words. But this isn't time for her to spiral over a few small words Adora didn't think through. They're fine. She just needs to keep this light.  
“Well that’s one of them. Realising Double Trouble betrayed me - probably a close second.”

“Yeah,” Adora pauses, “We have no idea where they are. Impersonating clones and Prince Peekablue last we heard.”  
She shrugs, “They’re a loose canon, guess that’s what made them fun. Just another relationship I’ve got to try and repair.”  
Adora brings her hand up to cup her face, she presses into it without hesitation. “Hey you’ll get there. You’ve got time.”  
“Ugh, it’s so much effort.”  
“You sound like Mermista. Do you know how many times I’ve had the ‘friendships take effort’ speech from Bow? I’ve lost count.”  
“Okay so I won’t bring that up around him then, got it.”  
Adora shoves her lightly, “Hey, it’s good the first time around.”  
“Hmm, sure Princess.”

They laugh and talk and kiss till the stars light fades into daybreak. 

* * *

**A Week Later**

Catra is waken roughly by thrashing in front of her in the dead of night. She’d fallen asleep while Adora was retelling the story of her first visit to Dryl and the killer robots. And although it was funny and about as crazy as any other story involving Entrapta, drowsiness had taken hold quickly, Adora in her arms. In the night Catra had rolled onto her back, Adora's head lying on her now-numb arm. 

There's light angry moans and flailing arms with hands half-curled into fists. Sleep fighting, even with the war over she still can't fucking relax. Catra rolls to her left and grabs the erratic hands swiftly, pinning them to Adora’s chest. More noises fall as she continues to struggle. Catra turns Adora not-so-smoothly onto her back, pressing an arm across both of Adora’s where she's pinned them to her chest to disable her, the other hand keeps Catra’s balance above her. Blue eyes blink open immediately.  
“Catra?”  
“Yeah, dummy it’s me.”

Adora's voice is hoarse with disrupted sleep but (as a result of their upbringing) she's now fully alert, “What happened? And why are you on top of me?”  
Catra looks down, she _is_ on top of her, the realisation makes her freeze. It's fine, she reasons, they've done this before. Plus Adora doesn't look angry or uncomfortable underneath her, still she releases Adora’s arms. She's not expecting them to settle on her hips and start brushing at the fine fur there where her top has risen up. She smirks even though Adora can't see it. “Are you complaining?”  
Adora's eyes grow wider at her forwardness. She knows Adora still isn't used to this, and neither is she, but at least she can cover it better (since she has some actual ability with acting.) “No.”  
“Well then. And I’m like this because you were doing your sleep fighting and almost pushed both of us off the bed.”  
“Oh.” At least she has the decency to look a little ashamed. Catra can see the blush in the dark.  
“Yeah ‘oh’.” She runs her fingers through Adora’s hair, their faces close as she's still leaning over her. It's one of those increasingly common instances when it's out of her ponytail. “What were you dreaming about?”  
Adora hums into the contact. “Don’t remember much. Killer robots I think. Probably what I get for talking about Entrapta last thing before bed.”  
“Yeah, she’ll do that to you.”

It's, again, one of those new instances when they're truly alone. No cadets, no commanding officers making sure they're asleep and no chance of Glimmer teleporting into their room seeing as it's something like gone midnight. Even Melog's gone, having been given their own...space. It isn't exactly a room but Glimmer had, had something made for them close by at Catra’s insistence.  
_‘Melog is not a pet Glimmer, they’re a space cat that talks to me and reflects my emotions. And that makes it kind of weird if I share a room with them.’_

But they are indeed alone and Catra can kiss and touch and hold Adora all she likes without worrying about Melog waking up and commenting - which had only ever made Catra embarrassed. Adora never understood, or sometimes never heard, what Melog would say and so of course _she_ found the situation utterly hilarious. She decided she didn’t mind it so much if it got Adora to laugh like that.

But Adora's not laughing right now, she's looking up at her, hands sliding higher up Catra's back and drawing a purr out of her. She waits for Adora's eyes to flick to her lips before actually kissing her. They both kiss like they're trying to win something; and it's passionate and messy and perfect. They kiss till neither can breathe, laughing into each other's shoulders before kissing even more. It's a strange kind of freedom, something Catra can get drunk on. 

She moves from straddling Adora, slotting in between her legs instead. The hands that move over her spine pull her closer, she drops down onto her forearms, melding their bodies together from head to toe. Her tail wraps around one of Adora's legs and the purring gets louder, Adora smiles before kissing her deeper. She draws a single claw lightly along Adora's jawline, just so she can soak in the gasp it elicits.  
_'Oh Adora. You really are so predictable.'_ She would say it out loud if that didn't mean she would have to pull away. But she's glad she didn't say anything because Adora's hand runs lower, into the patch of thicker fur right above her tail and she's definitely not expecting her to do _that_. She gasps at the flash that runs through her.

She leans her head against Adora's cheek, whispering, “Easy Princess,” against burning skin. The offending hand returns higher up, tripping over the bumps of her spine, she tries not to be too disappointed at the loss. Adora laughs, quiet and a little embarrassed, if Catra’s insides could melt she thought they would’ve. She mumbles, "You know that's off limits."  
"For now." It sounds like Adora didn't mean to say it, the thought is affirmed as Adora tenses under her. She keeps herself hidden against the side of her face but presses a kiss to the jawline close to her lips.  
"For now." Adora melts back into the bed with a sigh, relieved that she didn't overstep the boundary. Catra pulls back slightly, but only enough so she can cup Adora's cheek and pull her back into a kiss. "And don't think I was done with this." When she pulls back to breathe Adora manages to say, "Don't think I'll ever be done kissing you," in this hoarse, airless voice that makes Catra's whole body light up.  
"Shut up."  
Adora makes a small sound of protest, something that says, _'Hey I was being sweet, come on.'_ But it gets lost to Catra's own purr when she licks back into her mouth. Adora doesn't protest again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the end scene is kinda a bonus because I didn't want to stretch it out into a full chapter. Also in my re-editing I made it steamier because I fucking wanted to ok? Me from 3 months ago had literally never written a kissing scene before and now...well, this is rated M for a reason.
> 
> Melog: That's gay Catra.  
> Catra having to stop kissing her girlfriend: Oh you fucking think????  
> They gave Catra a therpay cat that just goes around calling her gay and I think that's beautiful.


	4. Blood & Tears & Losing Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How could she have been so stupid? So paranoid after all this time. It was like everything she'd done the last few months hadn't even happened, it didn't count when it mattered. And why did broken promises always hurt so bad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings at the end just in case.

She promised, she promised, _she promised_. It should fucking mean something.

Maybe she isn’t getting better. Maybe the witch was right. Maybe it’s all a self-inflicted illusion spun out of hope.

 _"I promise I’m never going to hurt anyone ever again. I’m so sick of hurting people Adora."_  
_"I know Catra. I know."_

After months of doing the right thing, of trying and apologising and growth, underneath she’s still that same scared kitten that cowered in the shadows of the Fright Zone, lashing out at everyone and everything. Now even the comfort of metal-borne shadows is gone, replaced with new life that has consumed the planet and everything in it. Green; green like old metal and poison smoke, but not. No this is the green of life and goodness and nature. Not first the first time, and not for the last, everything just seems too bright. 

She claws at her eyes, debating on some level whether scratching her eyes out would release some of this anguish. If she can’t see her mistakes would it make her feel better? No, she decides, it wouldn’t. She’d still feel this grip on her insides, this regret and guilt and hurt and rage and so much more. Broken promises would do that. 

She paces the length of her room, hers and Adora's. Gods she doesn’t want her to see her like this, not again. She can’t bear to bring anymore pain down upon her, she doesn’t deserve it, she loves her too much. Hurting one person in a day is enough. 

She walks onto the balcony, barely giving the view a glance before starting the climb.  
  


The roofs of Brightmoon are tall, smooth and rounded, difficult to scale for everyone but her. She leaps from rooftop to rooftop, swinging round outcrops of stone and clawing grooves into the surface if needed. It gives way easily under the weapons on her hands. She feels the pressure building in her skull ease more with air and distance until she’s made it to the peak of the main building, not even hesitating to hiding behind the central rising spire like a coward. The smoothness of the material behind her and the lack of wind do nothing to ground her. 

She won’t cry. She won’t.

In the distance she can hear the twinkle of Glimmer’s magic. She thinks nothing of it. Doesn’t even bother to open her eyes.  
“Catra!”  
That, however, catches her attention, drags it back from her choking self-loathing thoughts for a moment. 

Adora’s far away, down on the ground near the castle's entrance. She’s looking for her. Something inside her warms slightly, not enough to make her feel better but enough for her to stand up and peek around the corner.

It feels better for a moment, like a fantasy; fleeting and warm. Reality is a cold pool for her to return to. If Adora’s here, it means she knows what happened. It keeps her still and silent even if something inside is demanding she scream.

And Adora doesn’t see her.  
_‘She never did learn to look up.’_  
Even from this far she can see how frantic Adora seems to be. It hurts; she shouldn’t be worried about her right now. She blinks, it lasts longer than she meant it, and by the time she looks again Adora’s gone. Melog and Glimmer nowhere to be seen. 

She sits on the edge of the white dome, staring at the Moonstone and the expanse of blue wood ahead. Her old home is so far, not even a glimpse of it on the horizon. It holds so many bad memories and yet she misses it in some warped way. She misses looking out over the twisting pipes and feeling that rush of defiance and power, however weak it was. Knowing that she could leave her pain on the ground as she climbed higher.  
She’s doing the exact same thing; finding a high place where only one person might think to look for her. 

She hadn't even said anything. Gods that's another fucking promise broken - she promised to talk it through when something upset her. It seems as though all the progress she’s made is slipping and she has no way of getting it back. She buries her face in her hands, the groan that breaks through her teeth loud enough to border on a scream. The claws she struggles to retract in her distress plead to cut and break and ruin.  
She doesn't let them, she fights to keep them in, she knows she'll only hurt herself. It's one thing to hurt someone else, but she knows the heartbreak on Adora's face if she returns bleeding will crush her. The building frustration burns, she shouts freely into the evening air.  
  


She’s still curled up and battling black thoughts when the flap of wings cuts through.  
“There you are, you know Adora’s been worried about you.”  
It’s that magical fucking horse. Fucking great, just what she needs.

“Does she know what happened?” her voice is weaker than she means for it to be. She can’t bring herself to care.  
“Yes.”  
“How is she?”  
“What Adora? She’s fine, worried, but -”  
She growls through gritted teeth, “No. The girl. How is the girl?”  
His feathers fluff up, “It wasn’t deep, bleeding stopped quickly.”

She looks down at her hands; she had tried to get the blood out from under her nails but it stained the skin there yellowish. She swore she wouldn’t cry and yet here she is, tears falling quickly in front of a rainbow fucking horse. Swift Wind looks back out over Brightmoon’s lake, clearly uncomfortable and seeming to be debating whether to go get Adora or not. He sits - lies - down on the roof with her.  
Their relationship is at best a weird one and at worst a cold one filled with barely hidden animosity. So this is an entirely new and fucking bizarre experience for both of them.

“The girl explained what happened, said you apologised. After she calmed down. Shedoesn’t blame you.” She looks up but says nothing. “We could go flying if that would make you feel better?”  
She has been on exactly one of those, and it was nothing she wishes to relive. “I don’t know…”  
“Come on, it could be fun. Where do you want to go?”  
Gods, Catra really doesn’t want to answer that question. She knows where, she knows that the response won’t be a welcomed one. She figures it can’t really get much worse. “The Fright Zone.”  
“Oh.”

She sighs, ears flattening to her head; she’d expected it. Still, her claws dig into her legs, nowhere near as hard as she wants to.  
She doesn’t think he’ll notice but, “Fine. I’ll take you. But I _will_ go get Adora as soon as we’re there,” he sounds exasperated but...determined. 

_‘Self-righteous just like everyone else here.’_ She shakes her head, as if trying to throw the thought out. She can’t think like that anymore, she doesn’t want to. She’s just so damn tired. Nothing about this situation is right in any way, but he is willing to take her and she’s willing to go.

She nods, “Deal,” making moves to stand as the horse comes closer. If she’d been feeling better she might’ve found the way he uses his wings for balance funny. He dips low enough for her to jump on. “I’ll try and keep my claws in.”  
“You better. I know how much damage those things can do and I’ve spent way too much time on my coat.”  
He doesn’t sound scared, or even like he’s warning her. No, he’s trying to make her feel better. In a weird, kind of tactless way. A smile twitches at the corners of her mouth. It disappears when he takes off into the sky. 

* * *

Turns out that keeping her claws in is much harder than expected, she wraps her arms tighter around his neck so that her nails dig into herself rather than him. Her head tells her that’s progress, her heart says it’s the bare minimum and it doesn’t mean anything.

The cold rush of wind scourges all thoughts from her head. Seeing the stars from above the clouds again is weirdly consoling of her mood. When everything is stripped back, the stars are beautiful.  
Still, she’s terrified. She doesn’t dare look down at the rush of landscape below where clouds are thinner, the way it rolls slowly through a flurry of vibrant blues into the golden dust of the desert. The climate’s the same, she notes when they descend beneath the cloud bank, it's just healthier. Some life is probably starting to return if the spots of green are any indication. 

It’s so much smaller from the sky.  
The grasp of rock that holds the majority of the Fright Zone stands tall and soft, vines and cacti winding around the entire thing in pale green. She’d often thought as a child of it as hands protecting everything inside from the tyranny of the Princesses, very soon that thought had morphed, hands warping into a grip much like Shadow Weaver’s. It became a prison she couldn’t bear to leave. 

It's so different. Wrong. She wonders how Adora would feel if she saw it - they still have memories there. Even if most of them are bad (she’s proud she can admit that now after so many years of defending the wretched place.) She’d run an empire from here. Regret sits heavy in her stomach. She doesn’t even know how many lives had been lost under her leadership, and she never will.  
  


“There!” She points at an outcrop of metal, a platform she would recognise anywhere, even if it is newly bathed in twilight and moss.  
Swift Wind’s hooves don’t even make a sound, silent on soft foliage; it’s unnerving. She dismounts the horse, expecting him to rush back to Adora’s side and leave her there. He stays. 

She doesn’t move, frozen in this sense of wrongness. She focuses on the orange moon ahead, brighter than she’s ever seen it here, and the sound of the horse’s breath behind her.  
“You know we’d used to come up here, not that often just...enough. Whenever I just wanted to get away I’d climb up here and wait for her to find me.” She smiles sadly at the memory, like so much, it’s bittersweet. “It’d take her ages - even with her grappling hook. Sometimes she’d forget it and try anyway, she’d get stuck and I’d have to come help her.”

The first few times she’d come up here, Adora was too small to get anywhere close, her human body not having the right tools to get her there. Once eleven - or something like that - Catra had come up here again to just look at the moons and not Lonnie’s stupid smug face.  
_‘Adora’s only your friend out of pity’_ she’d said, hardly affecting Catra by that age. She’d already heard it enough from everyone else. Well, from everyone except the one person who mattered. Adora had tried, once again, to get to her spot, only that time it had worked. Catra was surprised, and had failed to hide it as well. She remembers Adora’s proud smile and how they talked well past lights out. 

There would be no way for either of them to get up here now, holes fired through the structure like wounds from Hordak’s blaster. If the place was still running on the old power, there would probably be a fountain of gases spewing out of broken pipes and other wreckages. Vines spread across those holes like bandages, the planet trying to heal from the efforts of the Horde - from attacks she’d led and ordered.  
This isn’t helping, she’s sinking further and further down. Guilt like hot blood fills her mouth. 

There’s nothing here that feels like home anymore, if it ever did to begin with. In some way she supposes that’s a good thing, she sits down on the edge, careful of sharp pikes where the railing has collapsed. She can see so much of her history; she's looking at the same moon the two of them looked at the night after Catra's first victory against Adora in a training exercise. Down below she’d found out Adora was Force Captain and Adora suggested that they go for that damn fated skiff ride up on this ledge. She can see the roof where they’d climbed to in the distorted reality of the portal, talking about ruling the world together. 

She thinks back to now, everything she gets to have with Adora _now_. Her kisses and her soft hands in the morning and her loving eyes in the moonlight, her relaxed smiles when they're alone, her playful smirks when she catches her eyes from across the room. She misses her, up on this ledge. She tells herself it's natural - her mind's throwing her back to the war, where being here meant being away from her. But that doesn't really matter, Catra still just needs her. She doesn’t want to.

She looks back, the horse is still there. He looks surprised that she's turned back.  
"Why are you helping me? You hate me." She doesn't let it sound like a question, she knows how much he disapproves of She-Ra dating the once enemy. He's certainly not the only one who thinks that way, but he makes it the most obvious.  
"I don't hate you. I don't like you, I don't trust you either. There's a difference. But Adora trusts does, I can feel that, I can feel how much she loves you. It's always been there, I just didn’t know what it was until she got you back. It got too strong to ignore after that."

She turns quickly back to the moons. She hates how the affirmation of Adora's feelings makes her want to cry. Because she knows, _she knows_ Adora loves her. She doesn't think a day since the Heart has passed where they haven't said it. But something about having someone who doesn't even _like_ her, someone who has no reason to lie and spare her feelings telling her... She's not prepared for the onslaught of feelings.  
Swift Wind doesn’t say anything, and she doesn’t look back, staring directly into the horizon, the new stars and the planets there. 

* * *

She follows the moons as they make their way across the sky, night had fallen a while ago. Warmth radiates from underneath her, curling its way up into the atmosphere; finally something that’s the same. She manages to tear her gaze away from the sky and down into the mesh of buildings below. There are people here, and even more returning, some coming here for the first time to help with repairs to make it habitable again. 

She wonders, not for the first time, how she’d be if Adora wasn’t her friend. Only this time the hypothetical is populated on the basis of if she were just a regular soldier who woke up one day with her life-long cause suddenly eradicated by people who she had been told were the enemy. She can’t even imagine it. But she knows Scorpia is doing an amazing job down there, trying to fix everything and make it better. 

When they had started making their way back to Brightmoon the morning after Horde Prime’s defeat, Perfuma and Scorpia had decided to come back here instead of Princess home base. Perfuma reasoning that she could move all the plants that might have trapped soldiers and the like, and Scorpia wanting to reclaim her lost kingdom. She knows they’re still both down there somewhere. She misses Scorpia, even if they talk through Entrapta’s electronic pads every few days. It's not the same as having her just down the hall.  
  


Another flap of wings and Catra supposes that Swift Wind is going to get Adora as part of their deal. She doesn’t move. Footsteps come closer - that doesn’t make sense. She turns only to see Adora walking closer with an expression so soft it makes her ache.  
She hadn’t realised he’d left, it makes her feel worse.

She wants to run into Adora’s arms, apologise reverently into her shoulder. She can’t seem to remember that she can do that now, she doesn't need to crush her pain under a mountain of denial and poisonous thoughts. And Adora won’t judge, they aren’t kids in the Horde anymore. Adora will forgive her. She would have forgiven her then as well. Being back here, in this spot, it doesn’t matter. She stays on the edge looking at her. She isn’t crying, she hasn’t cried since Brightmoon’s rooftop. But it hurts, it hurts so damn much. 

Adora sits with her, feet dangling off the edge and into the abyss below. “Should I really be surprised you’re here?” No reply. “You would always come up here when you were hurting and didn’t want anyone else to know. I mean I know it wasn’t the only reason but...”  
Silence stretches uncomfortably. Adora puts her hand on her shoulder. And just as she says her name in that so simply concerned _Adora_ way, Catra whispers, “I’m sorry.” Adora’s hand moves from her shoulder to her face. “I’m sorry,” she says it louder, voice managing to break on two words, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break another promise. I didn’t want to hurt anybody.”

She’s crying again and she’s incredibly thankful that the horse is gone. Adora pulls her in, letting her tears soak into her clothes.  
“I’m not going anywhere, just tell me what happened.”  
Catra can taste her own tears; it’s humiliating. Not even the safety provided by Adora’s arms can stop her feeling that. She thought she was finally okay with people (Adora) seeing her cry. She supposes that’s just another bit of progress slipping away.  
  


The girl hadn’t said anything. She wants to believe that it's not entirely her fault, that she just wasn’t prepared. It’s not a fucking excuse, but she just wasn’t; not for handling the deep-seated feeling of abnormality sitting like ice in her veins. And maybe it was because it’s been four months of too-good-to-be-true that she was, at least in some sense, expecting something bad to happen. It wasn’t even the first time she’s felt that way; unable to keep still, tense for no reason, paranoia creeping into her head. It happened in parts of the castle she didn’t know all that well occasionally, and usually Melog would be able to keep her calm enough. 

Today she’d been alone, mindless wandering leading her astray. There was no barrier between her and her own anxiety. There weren’t all that many shadows but it felt like they were inescapable. She’d been waiting - she doesn’t want to admit it, but she _was_ \- for someone to appear from the darkness on the walls. White eyes and black tendrils. 

She hates how much sense her own actions make to her. The girl was the only thing for her fear to latch onto - like a physical achor. Like justification. She’d come out of seemingly nowhere, ghostly silent, tall, dark and slim like solidified ink up behind her. It wasn’t her fault she had hands cold and clawlike, wasn’t her fault because she doesn’t _know_ her. But that hand on her skin allowed for panic to fog her mind. 

She had whirled around with outstretched claws and a hiss, _"Don’t touch me."_  
And it wasn’t Shadow Weaver. It was just some young girl from a town near Dryl that was recovering from Horde ruling, just like everywhere else. 

But blood had stained her hand already, lukewarm and wet, sick and familiar. Yellow liquid running heavy down the girl's shocked face, bold and electric against purple skin.  
_“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”_ She was still apologising as she ran from the room, winding through bright towering hallways that seemed to want to expose her mistake. She didn’t even get the girl's name.  
  


She can’t help but glare at her claws, wondering why she never got rid of them. She wouldn’t be in this fucking mess if she’d just got rid of them. She doesn’t _need_ them. They’ve hurt so many people - the risk isn’t worth it. It’s selfish of her to keep them. Someone should’ve told her - no, she should’ve realised that sooner. 

“I should get rid of them. I shouldn’t - I’m sorry it took me so long - I shouldn’t be allowed to have them.”  
“Catra...Catra no.” She wants to bite down on something when Adora kisses her forehead. “Catra I would _never_ ask you to cut them. Not for anything. I know how much they mean to you.”  
They do. They were always the one thing she could rely on when she had nothing - no one - else. She just has no reason to rely on them now.  
“But they’ve hurt so many people - they’ve hurt _you_. Fuck Adora, you’ve still got my scars on your back.”  
Adora holds her tighter. “And they’ll heal. They’ll be gone one day. Your claws, as much hurt as they’ve caused, they’re a part of you. And I _love you_. I love every part of you. Have I ever told you that?”  
No. She hasn’t. It makes her cry more.  
She whispers, “You shouldn’t.”

Adora brings her hand up and kisses each of her blood-stained claws one by one. She whimpers like a kitten, tears dripping off her chin. Adora repeats it on the other one and she has to stop herself shaking.  
“Too bad you can’t stop me.”

She’s as surprised as Adora is that she laughs. It’s nothing but water but she manages it. It’s quickly replaced with a broken sigh.  
“I hate this. I hate feeling like this.”  
“I know you do.”  
She growls because she can’t help it. “All this time and she’s still getting at me. She’s dead for fucks sake and she’s still able to fuck with my head.”  
“It’s only been a few months. I still half expect her to appear when I turn corners or see something moving in the shadows.” Adora wipes away her tears before they fall to the floor.  
“You do?”  
“Yeah. It’s awful.”  
“It really fucking is.”

They wait, and she manages to emerge from Adora’s neck, turning to look out over the horizon with her.  
“I am getting better, right? Everything I’ve been doing is not just in my head?” The sound is weak and pathetic, her voice wavering with her own concern, and she doesn’t care. She just needs to know.  
Adora sounds almost offended, “Of course it's real. It’s all real and _good_ Catra. Think of all the reparations you’ve been helping with, the relief missions you’ve led.”  
“Can that ever make up for everything I’ve done?”  
“You’ve already made it up to me. You’ve made it up to Bow, you’re almost there with Glimmer.”  
“I’m responsible for her losing her mother, Adora. I don’t think I can ever really fix that.”

The following pause makes panic rise again but Adora is quick to rectify it. “Well, maybe not today or tomorrow or in the next few years, but one day she’ll forgive you, just like you forgave her. I know you’ve been helping her and Micah try and get Angella back.”  
Adora is right, again. It doesn’t make her feel completely better, she doesn’t think anything really will. But knowing she has forgiveness, that Adora loves her, doesn’t blame her. That’s about as good as she’s going to get. 

“Thank you, for coming after me.” She moves so that she can look into the soft steel of her eyes. It lasts only a moment before she seals their lips in a soft kiss, trying to convey the whirlwind of emotions she’s feeling.  
“I always will. I love you Catra.”  
Adora keeps them close, foreheads leaning together, but Catra opens her eyes. Seems Adora had the same idea. And gods, how can someone's eyes hold every emotion she’s feeling? Her heart aches, better than before, light and full of love instead of heavy with pain.  
“I love you too.” Hands wind into each other, clinging desperately.

She still finds rebellion here, in this spot high above the Fright Zone; finds it kissing Adora in the place she never thought it possible.

* * *

She still hates flying. But having Adora in her arms can at least make it bearable. Her smell is lost to the wind and some of her warmth with it, but the firmness of her figure remains. She bundles in tight against her back, provoking laughter that isn’t missed. 

When Brightmoon circles closer, she finds it has never looked more like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mental spiral, PTSD, kinda implied past self-harm, Catra cuts someone and doesn't deal with it well (I don't know how to word this but I just wanted there to be some warnings)
> 
> After this Catra kind of compromises and files her claws down a bit.


	5. Stars Are Nothing Compared to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora spirals in the run up to their first magic space mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know me do not talk to me about this I'm so sorry. This is where the mature rating comes in. It's the first time I've ever written something like this so again I'm sorry. (Yes I went through this and basically rewrote most of it to make it hornier, sue me.)  
> Adora doesn't do self care okay.  
> I really didn't expect this to be as long as it is.

Adora had been stressed all week. And while everyone understood why, it didn’t stop it being annoying and (more primarily) concerning. Glimmer had lost track of how many times she’d had to drag Adora away from an ever-growing list of supplies they might need for their first planned trip to space. And every time she would go back and continue as if nothing had been said at all.

 _“At least someone is trying to think it through Glimmer! Do you think we’ll need gloves?”_  
_“I don’t know Adora.”_  
_“Adora we spent weeks in space with absolutely no preparation whatsoever and survived fairly easily. Why is this so different?”_  
_“It’s different, Bow, because we were going from point A to B and back, now we’re going from point A all the way to E then F then G.”_  
_“Well at least she still knows her alphabet.”_  
_“Not helping Catra.”_  
_"What if there’s an ice planet? We can’t expect all planets to have Etheria’s weather patterns. I mean most planets are going to have completely different base materials. I’ll get Entrapta to calculate how much water we’ll need for the whole trip..."_

Glimmer thought that Adora was intense over planning for Princess Prom. It had nothing on this. Adora was single minded, hyper focused to the point where it was scary, her entire room had transformed into a series of seeming endless lists. All of which had been moved to the war room by Catra in an attempt to make their room a ‘planning free zone’, thinking that without direct stimulation Adora would be able to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. The thought was in vain.

It had come to hers and Bows attentions that the only person who could break Adora out of it for even a moment was indeed Catra. This then led to Glimmer telling herself she had been forced by fate to shove Adora into Catra’s arms twice just to get her to shut up. Not that Catra minded exactly if the way she looked at her and purred a _“Hey Adora,”_ was any indication. Catra really should learn to control her tail, the thing would wrap around Adora the first chance it got. They were so in love it was almost disgusting. Her and Bow were not nearly as love struck as those idiots, although she might chalk that up to her and Bow not having a three year enemy streak full of betrayal with a messed up childhood to boot.

They're happy, they all are. She can't say anything on the contrary. Still. Catra's mostly content to follow Adora around, running off to do any tasks she was asked with minimal whining.  
_"She’ll burn out eventually, we just have to wait."_  
She had tried to sound nonchalant but Glimmer could tell that even she was verging on the edge of actually worried.  


* * *

  
Three days to go and then they’d leave. Catra was going to leave Etheria by choice to go and spread magic across the unknown Universe. The last year had been fucking insane. But insane in the out of the ordinary becoming the new ordinary way - making repairs, building and rebuilding towns and dispelling armies. But space, that was a whole slew of newness that Catra wasn’t exactly prepared for. She’d let it slip in Adora’s presence a week earlier and kick started her preparedness spiral.

Consequences of such began to show after just two days, dark circles appearing under Adora's eyes. If she didn’t take a damn break soon, she was going to crash and burn, Catra knew that. She’d seen this before - just maybe not on such a large scale. She just hadn’t realised how truly bad it was till a week had passed. She had assumed that Adora was at least getting _some_ decent amount of sleep when Catra forced her into their bed at night. Catra had even spent two nights with Glimmer and Bow so as to not provide Adora with a reason not to sleep. Apparently it didn’t matter, Adora was writing and packing and collecting and planning well into the next morning. 

She'd done it again last night, out of some desperate hope that Adora will just fucking _sleep_. She enters the bedroom to find Adora lying on their bed, star-fished in her day clothes, staring at the ceiling with drooping eyes. Writing utensils laying about the floor, papers and scrolls lying in piles by the bed. If she did sleep, then it hadn’t done anything worthwhile.  
“Hey Adora,” she says quietly, slinking closer.  
Adora hums a strange acknowledgment. Awake then. She sits down on what little of the bed isn’t consumed by Adora and her stupid pretty hair. Said hair that's growing dull in colour from her lack of sleep.

She looks out the window, knowing that Darla is somewhere down there being stuffed full of supplies for a month in space. Entrapta has been meticulously researching nearby planets and Darla herself for the past year (when she isn't running around in a rebuilt Dryl or Frosta’s dungeons to work with Hordak.) They now know the exact locations for First Ones Fuel and Horde colonies using intel from Prime’s ship. The ship that is floating above a plain in Etheria like a beacon of safety; a testimony to a war won. The Great Sky Tree or whatever they were calling it. 

Someday there’d be stories about She-Ra, _her_ She-Ra, not Mara’s. And the story about them saving the world together will probably be twisted obscenely into a complete untruth. In fact it was already happening, and she couldn't care less about it. She’d been the villain for as long as she could remember. As long as she’s getting better now, and the people who actually mattered know the truth, they could make her into the spirit of all evil and she wouldn’t care.

“What time is it?” Adora forces her eyes open, sitting up with _way_ too much energy. Catra has half a mind to shove her back down again. She settles for a hand on the side of Adora's face.  
“Doesn’t matter. Did you get any sleep?”  
Adora groans, “Too much to do. I just need to finish this.”  
“That’s not an answer.”

Adora huffs, retreating from Catra's hold and getting off the bed. Catra tries not to be too annoyed when the bathroom door closes, and it works, because she's not even annoyed with Adora. She's concerned, to the point where it's now bordering on frustration. She hears the sound of running water start as she dresses herself in her own day clothes, having left them in the bedroom by mistake last night. Adora comes out with her hair up and face washed. She looks pristine. Or she would if exhaustion wasn't weighing down on her shoulders like a ghost and the bags under her eyes didn't remain black against her face like bruises.

“Adora…” she began.  
“I’m going to get something to eat. Love you.”  
She doesn't have time to say it back before blonde hair is gone. Catra figures that at least she’s eating. 

* * *

“Can you just please just do something?” Glimmer sounds about as worried as she feels, her voice pitching higher at the end of her sentences. She's noticed that the Princess does that when she cares about something.

It's bad, she knows that. Adora is impulsive and quick thinking for the most part, she thrives under pressure, usually ruled by her own instincts while Catra prefers at least some semblance of a strategy or plan for most situations. She hides and waits in battles where Adora runs forward. But she also knows that sometimes Adora gets swept up in her own head, most commonly for improtant missions where she feels uncomfortable, out of her element and lacking in information. If she has the time, she likes to be prepared, and Catra can't blame her. Battle plans could benefit from this, many commanding officers had told them both as much, an unbeatable team when it came to troop organisation and preparing for any situation back in their days of Horde training. But without the war, she knows Adora hasn’t had any chance to use said skills, at least not to the extent she was used to and so as soon as an opportunity arose… Spiral.

“I don’t know what to do. She says she just needs to get through the list.”  
“But she’s not going to get through the list if she keeps making it longer!”  
She hisses, “I know that. She’s going to hurt herself before she even gets close.”  
She runs her hands down her face, pacing around the purple room, groaning in building frustration. Why did Adora choose now of all times not to listen to anyone?  
“She just needs to sleep. But we need to distract her long enough for that to happen. We can’t let her think about the trip at all.”  
“You’re really the only one who can distract her like that.”  
Catra tries not to preen at that, some weird form of pride. Melog’s purring gives her away though, she glares at them. “I’ll try. I’m not making any promises.”  
“Do whatever you have to.” The innuendo evident in the lilt of Glimmer's voice means the meaning isn't lost on her. Distract Adora; she's good at that, excelled at it her whole life. She can do this easy. 

* * *

Adora calls a meeting a few hours past midday under the guise of discussing repairs still needing to be made to Darla as it's practically the only way to drag Entrapta away from the ship in the first place. Catra, Bow, Glimmer, Melog and even Micah all sit in their respective chairs. It was comical in a sense that Catra was the only one near Adora, the others sitting further away as to not get hit by her failing arms.

It's about twenty minutes in that Glimmer gives Catra a look that clearly says _‘do something’_ , she gets it. Adora is standing tall, full rant, explaining every item on a list in explicit detail to Entrapta who was looking increasingly confused at Adora’s behaviour.

 _'Can't believe I'm about to do this.'_  
She moves to lay haphazardly across her chair, leaving her tail free to wander. It's not like she really has control of it, but she knows she can get it to wrap around Adora’s leg. It's not even her fault when the end of it starts waving gently against the inside of Adora's knee. But it breaks Adora's concentration immediately and really, that's all Catra's trying to do. Bow breathes sigh of relief at her momentary silence and she can't help almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

She watches as Adora shakes her head, ready to open her mouth again. She uses whatever control of the limb she does have to squeeze it tighter, it successfully cuts adora off before she can even start. It gives her an opening to say, “Entrapta I think you have enough to be getting on with.” She reaches over to a scroll labelled with the Princesses’ name and tosses it at her, “Take this.”  
Purple hair grabs the item before the Princess scuttles off quickly out the room and back to the ship outside, Catra can hear the buzz of her recording device as she begins commenting on the effects Adora's exhaustion is having on her behaviour. 

Exhaustion that apparently doesn't keep Adora quiet for long because she's already talking again, handing lists and diagrams across the table. She rolls her eyes before squeezing her tail again, a little tighter, a little higher up. She hears the hitch in Adora's breathing, and she's suddenly grateful for that particular heightened sense. Smugness settles deep in her chest.  
“Catra!” she hisses under her breath.

The others pretend not to see in some weird courtesy, all looking directly down at their new set of papers. She supposes Glimmer must’ve said something to all of them. She doesn't know if that makes her little game more or less awkward and weird. Either way, it isn't about them, it's about Adora and the flustered look on her face she's failing to cover.  
She smirks in that way she knows drives Adora crazy, adding a shrug for good measure. She said it's a game - she's going to play it.  
“What? I’m not doing anything.”  


Not a particularly dirty move but she knows that it's going to remind Adora of all the other times she's said those exact words. (And the varying degrees of innocence that come with the memories.) There's the blush she wants, but not nearly as dark as it should be. Adora keeps trying to look away but her eyes always come back to her, and honestly it's one of the most powerful feelings Catra's ever felt. While Adora's still distracted (and flushed pink) she makes an incredibly obvious show of biting her lip and raking her eyes over her body. _Now_ Adora's as red as she wants her. Gods it’s fun to mess with her this way, she’s disappointed she hasn’t utilised it sooner. A tragic mistake on her part.

Adora sits down and Catra releases her leg so the limb won’t get trapped. Well that's something, she supposes, more relaxed than standing anyway. She looks over at Glimmer who meets her eyes and gestures with her hand to _‘ramp it up’_ or something to that extent. Catra rolls her eyes again, trying not to express how much she’s actually enjoying this. (She checks Melog just in case and but no one seems to be watching them.) It feels a little selfish to be enjoying this when Adora is such a mess, but it's going to help in the long run. Or it should if it works. 

She waits until Adora looks away again, giving her a few minutes in between plays. Now this, this is a dirty move. She knows it, she also knows that Adora herself is going to be the only one who understands what she's doing. She starts purring, loud and low and (mostly) shameless. She only ever uses this particular purr in one place during (and after) one particular activity. And while it's not the exact same as the real thing, by the fucking gods does it get Adora's attention. Her entire body goes rigid and her hands clench into fists at her side, and when she looks at Catra out the corner of her eye she knows she's won. Catra's not sure how obvious it is to everyone else. Adora _really_ ought to learn how to act. At least she's quiet. 

The rest of the group are talking amongst themselves now, even Melog’s meowing occasionally into the conversation. Their words don’t land in Catra’s brain, merging in with the rest of them. But it’s keeping Adora from talking. Well that and the purr she keeps loud enough to be heard over the noise. “Well, the first planet is called…”  
Catra doesn’t actually know all too much about their first stop, listening to Glimmer would definitely be a good idea. But she keeps a permanent gaze on Adora, looking at her through her peripherals. The girl in question is silent for a good while, eyes flickering with the heat that Catra's craving. It doesn't last, doesn't grow how she wants it to. Adora tears her eyes back to the other side of the table, her body relaxes but she stays silent. 

Catra knows that's not going to fucking last. She moves to sit up fully in her chair before leaning heavily into the arm rest closest to her girlfriend. She stops the purr, Adora seeming intent on ignoring it now but Catra can fucking smell the frustration that's coming off her - whatever little there is. It takes a few minutes for the calm and silent Adora to leave. Adora’s fingers begin twitching towards items on the table again soon enough, her eyes focusing back on the scene before her. 

As soon as she reaches for a scroll with her left hand, Catra runs a claw over the dips of her hand, smirking at Adora’s set of rapid blinks where she refuses to look at her. She’s frozen, seeming to be struggling, fighting against sleep and now the feeling of her girlfriend’s claws gently running over her skin as they walk higher before stopping at white fabric. _‘Stupid long sleeves’_. She starts up _that_ purr again, quiet enough for only Adora to here. She grins, all teeth, at the way Adora represses a shudder at the reigniting of the sound. The goal was always to make it so Adora wouldn’t be able to think about anything else - distracting her, that’s all. And it's working so much better than she hoped. 

Adora turns to look at her, finally, and Catra takes her hand back. There's the heat she's dying to see, but there's also something regretful. “Catra, please I need to do this.”  
Now she's angry - angry at anyone who's ever made Adora feel like she _has_ to do things for other people. Because that's what this is; she's putting all the pressure for their trip on herself. She's doing this so that if something goes wrong it's _her_ fault. Catra's not having that. By the gods she'll make Adora feel like she has some fucking worth if it's the last fucking thing she ever does. There have been so many situations in which Adora's thought that she _had_ to do this or _had_ to do that, all of them much more dire than simply getting through a to-do list for a date they could just push back if necessary. She's making herself suffer. Again. For the good of the people who love her. And she's not even fucking realising that she's hurting them all in the process. 

She grabs Adora's hand where it's fallen back down by her side, using it as an anchor against her winding thoughts. Adora must see the anguish on her face as she breathes out roughly.  
"Hey, you okay?" Still fucking thinking about everyone but herself.  
"How many times am I going to have to tell you that you don't have to do this alone?" Adora looks surprised, the look strengthens when Catra kisses the hand she's holding. She lets it go and turns to the rest of the room, voice loud, frustration and determination creeping in. “Okay, meeting dismissed.”

She leans over the minimal space between their chairs, takes Adora by the arms, one hand moving up to cup around the back of her neck before kissing her harshly in front of everyone. Adora squeaks at the contact initially but Catra feels her eyes close and the muscles under her hands relax immediately. There’s a shuffling of feet and scratch of chair legs as the group leave. She finds she couldn't care less. 

It’s different from their other kisses, embarrassment and worry and love and anger and selfish pride, a strange mix. They’ve never kissed in front of people, not intentionally anyway. (Getting caught is a different story.) Catra knows she's territorial, always has been. This is just feeding that instinct, to make a show of what's hers. 

She shifts as close as she can and tilts Adora’s head back, hand winding softly into blonde hair. She knows her claws are digging lightly into the skin of her arm through her shirt and jacket, she also knows it works efficiently at stopping Adora’s brain functions. Adora seems to remember how to move though, both hands gripping onto Catra's arms, the fine fur and lean muscle there. Somewhere amongst it all Adora says her name. She purrs, bright and easy and genuine into the kisses.

Adora pulls back to breathe and her breath makes Catra's fur bristle slightly. Adora’s eyes are closed, breath ragged, she seems to be floating on whatever high Catra just gave her. Satisfaction lies in her chest, her purr grows louder.

Adora sighs into the space between them, as little as it is. Her hands release their hold and she stands from her chair. Catra watches, sitting up properly in her chair as she waits to see what Adora's going to do. “I don’t want to go Catra but -”  
“- Then don’t.” Blue eyes widen as she stands swiftly and pushes her back into the table by her hips, fitting in between her legs. “We have had those conversations about giving in to what you want, right Adora?”

Her girlfriend doesn’t respond, she looks conflicted. She’s working it through in her head, and Catra lets her. Even if the deep musky smell that now fills her nose tells her that, _'Yes, Adora wants this is much as as you do.'_  
She fights against it, waiting for Adora to give the word. Adora swallows before hesitantly bringing her hands to trace along Catra’s neck and up into her hair. Catra can't help the sigh of relief that escapes when Adora pulls them back together for a short kiss. Maybe this time the message will sink in. _'You can be selfish Adora, you know you can, it's okay.'_

What starts as chaste dissolves quickly, Adora needs to be out of her own head, Catra can practically _hear_ her thoughts they're so loud. She can work around this, she's done it before. She pushes Adora's hips just a little bit further into the table ledge, using the resulting gasp as a way to draw Adora's tongue into her mouth. She trails wet kisses along Adora's jaw once her own head starts getting dizzy, pulling Adora's shirt out from her trousers as she does so. 

“What has gotten into you? We’ve got things to do -” Catra moves quickly, cutting her off with another kiss.  
“Shush.”  
She isn’t exactly prepared for Adora to go along with it as easily as she does. Her Adora is as stubborn as they come, they both are. Maybe her self-inflicted exhaustion is aiding in Adora’s surrender because Catra can feel her limbs lose tension immediately. They kiss again, the hands still in Catra's hair pull when Catra bites her lip and this time the low purr is genuine. She knows it leaves Adora breathless and this is no exception. She slips her hands under Adora's shirt, gently scraping her claws up her sides, Catra swallows the sounds she makes.

She tugs off Adora’s jacket, once on the table she starts pulling down the collar of her white top, fingers splayed across her chest so she can kiss and bite at her neck. Adora's hands lower, fingers pressing firmly into her shoulder blades, making her back arch and her teeth bite deeper. Adora moans quietly above her, and as much as Catra loves it, could drink in that sound for the rest of her life, she can hear the tapping of footsteps as someone passes the very open doorway.

She pulls away, breathing hard into Adora’s neck for a moment before standing tall, disentangling their limbs. Blue eyes are hazy and the mighty She-Ra can’t seem to string words together. Good, that was the point of this whole operation. She drapes the red jacket back over broad shoulders before pulling on Adora’s hand, bringing her off the table and into her arms. Adora’s looking up at her, eyes filled with love. She pushes some golden hair out of her face where it’s come free of its binding, stroking across her cheek.  


She drawls a, “Hey Adora.”  
The blonde's blush spreads, splotchy on her pale skin as it fans out below her shirt collar and somehow it's the prettiest thing Catra's ever seen. Catra interlocks their fingers delicately, it's out of place with the way she growls, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”  
Adora hums her agreement into Catra’s jaw. When they get to the doorway Catra hears the pad of soft feet; Melog’s still here.

 _“Is she okay?”_  
“Yeah, you’re okay aren’t you?”  
Adora reaches down to pet the cat, “I’m fine, Melog. Great even. Just haven’t been able to sleep.”  
Catra bends down to whisper, “Come to our room in an hour okay?” to the cat. They nod before slinking off down the hall.  
“What did you say?”  
Catra kisses her again, keeping it innocent for now, “Nothing for you to worry about Princess, now come on.” Adora giggles ( _'So fucking cute.'_ ) as Catra drags her in the opposite direction.

* * *

  
Getting back to their room takes longer than anticipated for a number of reasons, the main one being that Catra takes her mission to keep Adora’s mind on her, and her alone, incredibly seriously. As soon as they reach an empty hallway, she can’t seem to stop herself from wrapping back around Adora. Not that the girl in question moves to stop her in any way. She gives back just as good as she’s getting, she always does. There’s always this push back with them, it’s as intoxicating as Adora herself. Normally Adora likes to take the lead in these things and only after gaining control (and being an absolute tease) does she usually relinquish it. But not today, no today she doesn’t let Adora have the upper hand for too long, keeps her pinned against walls or close to her side.

They’ve lost Adora’s jacket twice now seeing as it’s not properly on her form, but that's not the only reason why the guards give them funny looks (or at least she thinks so, they have all got helmets.) They’re also both messes, with hair flying wild and the beginnings of marks on necks. Catra is trying to steer them down a route that ensures the least amount of people, but her mind is a bit preoccupied. She’s torn between embarrassment and smugness, because yeah, her girlfriend is _hers_ (and she's hot and sweet and gorgeous and funny and perfect and everything else) but also it feels like the entirety of Brightmoon’s inhabitants know what they’re doing (or are going to be doing). And it wasn’t like they had to cross the whole castle, but it sure fucking feels like it. She almost cheers when they finally reach the familiar corridor.

Softly as she can, she pushes Adora through their bedroom doorway, watching Adora sway on her feet. Her hair’s mostly fallen out of her ponytail from where Catra's been pulling on it (and just generally running her hands through it because it's really soft and she loves it). Her jacket is already back on the floor.  
“What are we doing Catra?” Her voice is so tender it makes Catra’s heart ache. She locks the door behind her.  
“Well you won’t sleep on your own so I’m going to tire you out,” she says it casually, knowing it’s going to reignite the blush on Adora’s face. The contrast of sparkling blue and heated red is as beautiful as it always is.  
“Oh, um, yeah. Okay.” She’s smiling wide and reaching her hands out.

 _‘Gods she's so cute,’_ Catra’s known it forever, and it still stands. It just that now she also has a body that is literally flawless. She ignores outstretched hands in favour of cradling Adora’s face as they kiss. What’s left of her ponytail comes spilling around them. She’s enveloped in strong arms, can feel muscles flex as Adora squeezes her tighter. Her tail twists around Adora’s thigh, keeping them plastered together.

Her hands move from Adora’s face to her chest and bladed nails tearing fabric when she pushes Adora onto the bed. Adora’s too far gone to even care, she smirks again before climbing on top of her. Adora’s chest is heaving, that blush is spread across the whole of it and Catra can’t stop the stream of _‘I love you’_ that fills her thoughts. She keeps herself above Adora at arms length and just looks at her, because she can, because she'll never be over the fact that she _can_ now. (And because even when she's not really trying to be, she's a tease.)

Adora must get sick of her distance because she drags them back together, pleads Catra’s name into her mouth. She doesn’t think she can breathe, but she must be able to, everything is too vivid for her to have passed out. Adora smells absolutely intoxicating. She kisses and licks at that stupidly pretty blush on her chest that feels like flames under her hands. She moves lower, just to escape the suffocating power of her scent for a few seconds. She tears the fabric away as easily as paper, and she does intend to stay up there but then Adora's holding her wrists and using her claws to cut more of the shirt away, leaving it fully open.

And yeah, she can work with that. She runs the kisses lower, dragging teeth and tongue over firm muscle at Adora's insistence while her hands are busy a little higher up. She looks up, hoping to meet blue eyes but Adora’s head is buried in the bedding along with her hands, her eyes closed. Catra decides that, that is a far better reaction considering what she’s meant to be doing.  
She peels the rest of Adora’s clothes off her, slowed by demanding hands in her hair and Adora's bare chest being pushed into her mouth. She knows she’s probably blushing under orange fur and freckles. It doesn’t matter how many times they do this, doesn’t matter how many times she’s seen Adora look at her like that, it never fails to make her fall deeper.

But eventually she gets Adora fully naked and back underneath her and she's able to kiss her senseless with one less layer between them. She purrs loudly at the smiles she can feel being pressed into her skin when Adora’s mouth begins to travel. Strong hands run up and down her back as she asks Catra to take her clothes off too, it’s barely a whisper. She knows she can’t deny Adora when she’s like this.   
She giggles (something she would violently deny should Adora tell anyone else) at Adora’s pout as she extracts herself from calloused hands to take her clothes off, sitting back on Adora’s thighs. A head of blonde hair follows.

Arms wrap around her waist and Adora presses kiss after kiss to the part of her chest exposed by her outfit.   
“You have to let me go if you want my clothes off Adora.” She doesn’t bother to keep the laugh out of her voice.  
Adora grumbles a small, “Don’t want to,” into her chest before looking back up at her, “Let you go, I mean. I do want your clothes off.”  
“You dork.” She pushes Adora down by the shoulders with enough force that it stuns her for a few seconds. She disrobes quickly before rejoining.  
“See, wasn’t so bad.” She strokes a hand across Adora’s face, gently brushing back hair.  
Another pout. “Shut up and kiss me.”

It’s open mouthed and messy and full of barely restrained laughs. And she loves it. But there is somewhere else she'd rather be, she tells Adora as much and the groan Adora tries to choke down makes her blood burn. She gives her one last (misleadingly sweet) kiss before following her hands as they drag down her body.  
“Adora…” she purrs into the skin of her thighs. Her ears flick towards the low sound Adora makes and she smirks. Her tail winds around Adora’s ankle as she begins to go about drawing more of those sounds out of her.

* * *

“Where are you going?” Adora's voice is slurred and quiet enough to be lost on normal ears. Catra kisses her forehead, satisfied purr rumbling into her hair.  
“Well making sure you stay there and sleep is more than a one cat job, love.”  
Both of them blush at the pet name. They only ever use it in situations like this, when neither care about how pathetically in love they are. Even a year later and this almost intense intimacy still makes them both messes. 

Catra unlocks the door and opens it enough so that Melog can get in, although the cat isn’t outside the door just yet. She closes the curtains and retreats deeper into their artificial twilight. She crawls back under the covers, laying across the body beneath her, head burying into the spot where neck meets shoulder. Without her own arousal making everything beyond intense, she can drown in the smell without almost choking. Adora smells like _them_ and it adds to her high. She relishes the feeling of bare skin, the sheer amount of heat consuming them, running clawless hands across divots and lines she’d made in thin skin. Adora’s heart beats slow and steady like her breathing. And she is asleep by the time Melog comes in and crawls on top of her as well - even if it’s outside the covers. Catra falls asleep to the waves of purrs rolling through the room.

* * *

It takes several minutes for Catra to realise the hands in her hair aren’t imaginary at all. Solid, grounding fingers rubbing where her ears melt into regular skin and fur, Adora knows exactly how to get her to purr. And she doesn’t even care. She feels like she’s bathing in light, but it doesn’t matter - what matters is Adora. This was all for her benefit after all. It wasn’t her fault if the whirlwind that is Adora swept her up and made her forget that a few times.

She pushes up onto her forearm, alleviating some of the weight she was putting onto the body below her. Her arm goes numb almost immediately where she’d been sleeping on it. The thought leaves her head when she sees Adora’s face scrunch as she wakes, she’s once again reminded of how cute she is. “Hey dummy. How’d you sleep?”  
Adora leans up to kiss her, soft and tender and perfect. “I slept great thanks to you. You made good on what you said.” She’s smiling in low light, unashamed and knowing Catra can see her perfectly.

 _‘Gods she’s beautiful’_ , Catra can’t think of anything else. The bags under her eyes are gone and her hair is back to it’s usual dark gold, a halo around her on the pillow. She's about to tell her that she's the most gorgeous thing she's ever seen but a more pressing question takes its place.  
“Didn’t hurt you did I?” She should’ve made sure of that before they fell asleep. She pushes back what little bit of guilt comes creeping up. There’s nothing that bad that she can see, but also doesn’t want to move to check the rest of her. She stares at the marks on her neck and chest that are already starting to heal with the magic that lives inside of her.  
“Few scratches on my thighs, but they’re not too deep, will heal easily.” Adora kisses her again before she has a chance to feel bad about it.

She doesn’t want to tear her eyes away from Adora’s face, but she also has no idea how long they actually slept. Half light is creeping in through a gap in the curtains, so it’s been a few hours minimum. She looks down and Melog is gone, the door is still closed. So either Melog can go through walls now or has learnt to close doors. She detests rolling over to see the clock (a new edition from this week), the glowing numbers read ‘06:21’. They slept right through to morning. She ignores the hunger that makes its presence known and relaxes back into Adora, happy that she finally got a good night’s sleep.

“You feeling better?” Adora nods, sinking back into bedding. Catra rests her head on her chest, kissing her collarbone once lightly, content to just laze here longer. Adora is feeling better, she made Adora feel better. Everything is amazing.  
“I love you.”  
“I love you too.”

* * *

“Ok so that didn’t work.” Glimmer points to Adora, frantic as ever, mumbling a checklist under her breath that only Catra can hear. 

One might think that a wall of three persons staring worriedly at you would register, but apparently not. So having a good night's sleep had only worked to reinvigorate her efforts. It was better than nothing.  
Glimmer turns to her, tone accusatory, “I thought you said you were going to tire her out?”  
Catra fights down a laugh that bubbles up, biting at her lip to keep a smile down. Images rise to attention without permission. “Unless you want details Sparkles you gotta trust that I did. She slept over twelve hours. It's not like she’s gonna pass out randomly anymore.”  
Glimmer sighs, face a small grimace, “Well now she’s just got more energy to waste on literally everything. What do we do now?”

“Maybe we should just try and get through the list?” Bow doesn’t sound like he believes that it will work himself, looking at the lists plastered to the walls. All of which have been heavily annotated as Adora crosses them off. “You said that was what she was trying to do, so maybe we just do it.”  
Catra groans, head back, long and loud. “Fine,” it’s sharp, “Let's do that.”  
She walks up to her girlfriend, placing a hand gently on Adora’s shoulder, dragging her out of her own head for a few seconds. Adora’s smile is small and quick, she places a kiss on the corner of Catra’s mouth before returning to writing and rummaging through papers. She’s taken aback a little by the action before she remembers how yesterday had properly started; she’d kissed her in front of everyone. Guess that was just something they might do now.  
“Adora, do you have any lists of things we should do?” 

Adora can’t tear her eyes away from the papers just as Catra can’t tear hers from Adora. The usually flawless ponytail has had strands hanging out of it all week. To most other people is would mean nothing, but the simple fact that Adora hadn't even bothered to push it back means something. It means she feels powerless; like she has no control over her situation. It's back to normal now and it's ridiculous how much relief that brings her. Still, she'll have Melog stick close to her today, just to make sure she's okay. “Oh, um, yes. Here.” Catra is now laden with three long scrolls, each of their names written hastily on the sides. And with that Adora is rushing off out the room, muttering only a quick hello to the other two. Melog trotts along behind her, glitching invisible past the doorway.  
  


Completing the lists takes hours, but it is in fact done by the end of the day. And maybe Bow was right, because Adora is not nearly as wild as she had been this morning, sitting comfortably in a chair in the castle kitchens.  
“Hey my list is done.” And just like that Adora smiles, relief evident and obvious. The kitchen is clean, unmarred by lists that had consumed the war room, only one sitting in Adora’s right hand, the left reaching out to Catra. She takes it easily, feeling the relaxation she’d felt this morning seeping back in. She sits in the chair next to her, turning it to face her properly. “How are you doing?”  
“Aw, look at you being all considerate.”  
She can feel the heat rising in her cheeks, it’s different when Adora says stuff like that when other people are around. She doesn’t even deal with it well when they’re alone (but she's getting better). She’s just glad the chefs dare not appear to be paying attention to them. “Shut up.”  
“I’m feeling better. Everything should be done by tomorrow.”  
Catra runs the pads of her fingers over Adora’s palm, remarkably tender considering the company. Adora opens her mouth to say something, but seems to think better of it, content to sit in silence and listen to the hum of the kitchen. Catra squeezes her hand before getting up for some food herself. 

Just as she’s walking back, Glimmer and Bow poof into the room in a cloud of sparkles. Catra almost drops her plate, part of it cracks where her claws dig into it, having unsheathed in her shock. Her tail poofs up as well if the way Bow’s looking at her is any indication, big eyes with a pout. She waves it in an attempt to make the fur fall flat without the use of her hands. Adora doesn’t even react, just looking up casually and waving slightly. 

How long did it take her to get used to it? She’d have to ask her because a year later and it still never fails to make her fur stand on end. Some of the staff bow quickly to the Queen and it’s weird enough for Glimmer to get uncomfortable and wave them off. At least she’s not the only one still adjusting a year later.  
“Okay, so me and Bow just finished our lists. Anything else we should do?” Damn it Catra should’ve asked her that.  
Again, Adora opens her mouth to speak but shakes her head, taking a breath. “No. No it’s fine. Everything else we can do tomorrow,” she turns to Catra, “Right?”  
She sounds so unsure and Catra melts. Adora is trying and she knows that feeling so very well. She’s proud of her. Catra sits next to her again, smiling, “Right.”

Glimmer sighs in relief, “Good because I am ti-ered. I’m just gonna grab some food and go to bed.”  
“Adora, I honestly don’t know how you did this for a week straight,” Bow says, empathy colouring his voice like always.  
“Neither do I.”  
They load up some plates and grab some cups and lay them on the table. The couple give Adora a quick double hug before collecting their things and poofing out of the room, leaving them (somewhat) alone once more.

She hears the steady pace of Adora’s breath pick up again. “Gods Catra, what if I forgot something?”  
“Then we’ll deal with it and it won't be the end of the world. Besides we’ve already lived through that.”  
“You’re right.”  
“Usually am.” They both knew that was bullshit but Adora lets it slide.

They sit in comfortable silence, hands intertwined. Catra has made it no secret that she loves Brightmoon food - meat! She had sharp canines for a reason, dammit. If a younger Catra had known about the food it might very well have been easier to leave. She doesn’t even care when Adora laughs quietly at her. There’s no one here she needs to impress or remain civil for, so she just tears into the food. It’s primal and animalistic and it makes Adora laugh. In some way it makes her feel like a kid again, the only person she was this comfortable being around was Adora then as well. Adora doesn’t judge her cat instincts, encourages them in fact. And she doesn’t make those eyes that scream _‘you’re so cute’_ like Bow does (well she does but it’s Adora so it’s different.)  
They finish their meals, lulling in the hum of the kitchen, before walking back to their room, hand in hand. 

* * *

It’s departure day, and everything’s ready. Adora is relaxed and clean and dressed and wearing her usual demeanor again. A flurry of bags are scattered about their room, ready to go into Darla. When she’s ready herself, Catra calls out to Adora on the balcony, watching her intently as Adora pushes the curtain back fully.  
“Would it be an abuse of magic if we got She-Ra to carry all these bags?”  
Adora rolls her eyes, “From Bringer of Peace and Balancer of Etheria to a bag carrier. Bit of a step down.” That wasn’t an answer.

“So you won’t do it?” She knows if she tries hard enough she can probably jibe Adora into doing it, and maybe she just wants to see She-Ra again. It’s weird to miss someone she spent so long hating. But it’s just Adora now. Adora but eight-foot tall and brimming with enough raw power to level armies. Sue her for being a little interested.  
“No.” She nudges Catra with a shoulder, knocking her out of her weird momentary trance. “Bet I can carry more bags than you.”  
“Yeah sure.” She probably can, but like hell is she going to admit it without a fight. They load up like pack horses, it’s ridiculous and silly and it’s been a while since Catra has had to do any legitimate heavy lifting. Adora does manage more bags than her but doesn’t brag about it, teasing only slightly.  
  


Wheels clang as the last of the supplies is loaded onto the ship, Entrapta ensuring all the crates are clipped in place. Catra and Adora stand at the top of the ramp, watching as boxes go by.  
“Sorry I got so caught up in everything this week.”  
“Hey,” she tilts her head, knuckles under Adora’s chin, “I said I’d stick by you through everything didn’t I? That includes your frankly obsessive planning spells as well as exploring the cosmos.”  
“Promise you’ll stick by me through everything?”  
“I promise.”

If they’d been alone Catra would have kissed her as soft as she's able, but as it is she settles for a prolonged press of lips to Adora's cheek. She makes up for it by simply looking at her. Magic seems drawn to Adora nowadays, making her glow when she's happy. Or maybe that's just Catra. She'll never let anyone know how often she compares Adora to moonlight and star shine in her head. Adora drapes an arm around her shoulders and Catra doesn't hesitate to lean their heads together.  
  


The six of them stand on Darla's bridge as she takes off. 

(Save for Wrong Hordak, who sits in the engine room, ready for problems that will inevitably occur. Last she had seen he was sat in the dark, his eyes and teeth blending in with the ship lights, having been turned an electric blue, and wearing his purple tunic representing both Dryl and Brightmoon. Catra had found it weird that he insisted on coming, wanting to _"Free his Brothers of Prime’s poisonous thinking,"_ but found she couldn’t argue against an extra pair of hands to help.)

The stars seem to grow brighter as they get closer, at least Catra thinks so. She leans into Adora’s side again, seeing the equally mesmerized look on her face.  
Bow looks back at them, hand in Glimmer’s. “All right Best Friend Squad. Let’s do this.” They cheer as they leave the moons of Etheria behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catra whenever Glimmer teleports: Stop! I could’ve dropped my food.  
> You do not know how badly I wanted to make Catra drop a croissant. But she is cat and (apart from my own cats) I don’t think they really enjoy eating those.  
> Yes I gave Catra a sex-specific purr fight me. They are switches your honour.


	6. Paradise By The Starship Light (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's nearly two years since they started their space trips, and She-Ra has been less and less present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a part one of two.  
> These chapters keep getting longer and longer I'm sorry I didn't mean for this to happen.
> 
> There's claw stuff that happens here if that weirds you out...well think you might be in the wrong fandom my friend.

“Promise you’ll wear it?” Adora is looking at her with so much love, it would be impossible to refuse even if she wanted to. And she doesn't.

Adora is holding out her Brightmoon alliance badge to her, small and glittering gold in her pale hand. It's the symbol that had replaced the Horde buckle on her belt when she’d left, and now she's offering for her to wear it - a statement to the universe of their closeness. It's love and trust and a promise. Not that anyone from the other planets will truly understand how meaningful that little pin is. No, this is just for them (and for their friends.)

The thought warms her, an overwhelming amount of love burning through. It leaves her shocked still and holding back tears. She takes it gently, claws retracted, pinning it to her rust-coloured coat lapel. She’s never really adopted the Brightmoon colours - she has a reputation and a style okay? - still residing in the dark colours of the defeated Etherian Horde. 

_"Won't Horde colours freak people out? I mean we are coming to tell them they’ve been liberated.”_  
_"Bow, these are Etherian Horde colours, not Prime colours. It’ll be fine.”_

Occasionally she’ll wear white or gold as an homage to She-Ra, and today is one of those days. Thick white leggings peeking out from under her coat hem. She's never been particularly fond of extra layers, absolutely refusing to wear loose ones that will catch on her fur and rub it the wrong way when she moves, but this planet is cold. As cold as the Northern Reach back home - she really does miss Etheria. But being in the stars with her friends and with Adora, well that's pretty great too. It isn't even their first visit to the stars and it isn't going to be their last. After two years of trips, varying widely in length and excitability, it might be time for a rest soon. She misses their bed back home, all the memories it now holds.

She looks down at the wing glinting in the artificial light of the spaceship, “I promise.”  
Adora’s smile is more than enough to convey her joy, she needlessly wraps Catra in her arms. It doesn't mean Catra doesn't push into it as much as possible, bundling into Adora’s many layers. How did people without fur survive these frozen planets? She’ll never know.

This planet is breathable at least, enough magic still remaining in the atmosphere, a fact that Catra greatly appreciates because it means she gets to look at Adora all she likes without a stupid space helmet getting in the way. (Not that she doesn't look great in it, but still.) And despite the layers separating them, Catra can still feel the heat of Adora’s breath on her neck when she speaks, “You mean so much to me.”

She thinks back to this morning - or whenever they’d woken up, time is hard to track in space - when she’d pulled on black boots in preparation for the day. The strangest expression had crossed Adora’s face, something like trying to remember a dream she couldn’t quite grasp.

“What?”  
“You’re wearing shoes,” she had stated it like she was confused.  
“Adora, you’ve seen me wear shoes before.”  
Adora had seemed to shake herself out of whatever was tickling her mind, “I know, I just…Nothing.” Catra had tilted her head to the side, Adora only responding by pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’m going to go over the plan for today with Glimmer.”

Catra had rolled her eyes, “Again?”  
Adora sighed, “Yes again,” as she left but she paused at the door, maybe she was remembering something. Catra saw her shoulders relax, a smile peeking out from the side of her face. It was peaceful, almost wistful. “I love you.”  
No matter how many times she heard it, her blood would still rush to her head, making her light and dizzy, “I love you too.”  
“And your hair would look really good in a ponytail.”

She had laughed as she left, leaving Catra confused. She’d never worn her hair in a ponytail in her life, leaving that to Adora and her hair poof. Catra walked over to the mirror on the metal wall, pulled it up in her hand with no intention of keeping it there. She supposed Adora was right, she would look good.  
“What do you think?” she asked, turning to Melog.  
_“How am I meant to know?”_

She had just sighed. Maybe another day, her hair was long enough for it now, returning back to the wild bush it always used to be, but any and all insulation was going to be appreciated. The door slammed home with a satisfying rush of air as Catra went with Melog to the ship's bridge, ears twitching at how loud her own footsteps sounded. 

Now Catra listens for any close sounds before pulling Adora into a quick, sweet kiss when she hears none. This moment is just for them and she wants to keep it that way. But she also knows they really should go.  
“Okay I’m ready, let’s go meet the Sparkle Squad.”

She’s said the name before, knows Adora finds it exasperating, but also loves that it theirs. Glimmer and Bow (and sometimes Entrapta and Wrong Hordak) don’t know that’s how she groups them. She doubts they’d be too mad. Bow would love it. They pass through doors, Melog trotting ahead of them, to find the rest of the crew pulling on more layers by the bay door, even Entrapta is there with Wrong Hordak, she tells them that she wants to do some repairs and upgrades to the outside. Entrapta’s purple coat is so weighed down with equipment it nearly draws a laugh from Catra.

“So long as you don’t break anything then we’re cool. I do not want to get stuck on this ice planet.”  
“What is it with you and the cold? You know you have fur right?”  
“Duh. I’m used to being warmer than all of you.”  
“That...You know what I don’t care. Let’s just do this.” Glimmer ignores her mildly flawed logic in favour of pulling on her rucksack.

“From what I gathered off Horde Prime’s ship, Ollion is a supplies planet occupied by natives that call themselves Ollisions. It was kept alive enough to provide food for the inhabitants and nearby occupied planets,” Entrapta rattles the information off a pad held in her hair.  
“How much can they really grow in a foot of snow?”  
Bow turns to her, hood up and with goggles Catra refuses to wear strapped to his face. “Well that’s just it, because of the snow Prime couldn’t easily use it for anything else so he forced the people into underground caves warm enough for food. They probably wouldn’t even know we were here if we hadn’t sent a signal.”

“Okay, listen up. This won’t be like our other missions, this planet still has it’s magic, even if it’s diluted. This is purely diplomatic and we are here to help with the society's functioning. Be prepared for a bad reaction to Wrong Hordak but do not engage unless absolutely necessary.” Adora uses her _‘I’m in charge, listen to me or else’_ voice that she so carefully shaped in the Horde. It never failed to make Catra’s skin feel buzzed and warm then, it’s somehow worse now. They all nod. 

* * *

Catra pulls her coat in tighter once they get the signal from the natives saying they’re ready to meet them. Adora removes her hand from its place on her shoulder and she knows if she could feel it through the clothes she would miss it. If she really wanted, Catra knows that Adora could just transform into She-Ra and be immune to the weather, the Princess seeming to have a magic shield against the cold. But these are Horde-enslaved people and if the planet had clones, they'll know who She-Ra is.

On their first space trip a little under two years ago, there had been a few incidents of clones attacking She-Ra, running on Prime’s last orders. She-Ra herself hadn’t appeared much since, in fact it had been numerous months since she made an appearance.

The door slides up and the ice rushes in, wind wrapping Catra’s ears and face in cold. She’s just lucky it hasn’t penetrated her layers yet, she feels flattened fur try to stand up as a last means of insulation. She grits her teeth, “Let’s just go. The sooner this is over the better.”  
She knows someone has rolled their eyes at her - Adora - but also knows that they all agree with her. At least to some degree.  
  


Entrapta waves at them as the group leaves, heading outwards across an endless white plain. There’s no snowfall much to Catra’s relief, and limited cloud cover overhead suggests that it’ll stay that way. Entrapta had said that the lack of light was what allowed for the entire planet to freeze so to be able to see much of anything means that this is what qualified for daylight here. It's dark, as dark as night in Etheria but Catra’s always been able to see better than the others. She walks ahead with Melog while they hang back with a lantern. Catra is leading the group, Adora had suggested it due to her enhanced eyesight, smell and hearing, arguing that she’ll be able to find the group easier. It was sweet of her. And Catra had called her a sap as soon as they were alone. (And kissed her but that wasn't necessarily because of that.)

Melog beside her trudges through the snow that consumes half their legs, they don’t seem to mind but it is a little funny. And Adora was right to suggest she lead because she spots a light ahead before the rest of them do.  
“There,” she says, pointing in the direction of a small glow. The wind isn’t seeming to be carrying anything, no voices or smells. She hisses as the cold washes over her where she had to remove her arms from around herself.  
“I don’t see anything.”  
She rolls her eyes.  
“That’s why she’s leading Bow. Catra’s got this.” 

Catra has long since gotten used to Adora saying things like that, validating her abilities and skills casually, she was always good at it. It still makes Catra smile secretly. She trudges closer to the group, wading through ankle-deep snow, Melog sticking close to her legs. The two parties come face to face. There had been limited intel on the native species, Horde Prime not finding it important it seems. Catra isn’t threatened by their strong build covered in thick grey fur that reflects orange in the lamplight, or the mouths holding several rows of large, flat teeth. There’s only three of them.

 _‘I can take them easy in a fight,’_ the thought comes quicker than she can stop it. She doesn’t need to fight anymore. They are here for peace.  
Adora, Glimmer and Bow come to stand beside her, Wrong Hordak standing behind them all but she can’t feel any heat coming off any of them, can’t smell their familial scents either. Her hatred for the cold runs deeper. 

* * *

Gods if Catra thought the planet was cold, it was almost nothing compared to the people:  
“Know that we do not trust you.”  
Glimmer looks taken aback at the bluntness but keeps an upbeat tone, “We, uh, weren’t expecting you to.”  
“Just so that is understood. Come this way.” Their yellow-orange eyes flash when they turn.

The group shares a look before following. Wrong Hordak appears as he always does; completely unaffected by what’s happening. They weren’t asked for names but maybe they weren’t important here? They didn’t even question the clone with them. She decides it doesn’t matter right now.

She hangs back with Adora and Melog, keeping her ears alert and counting the steps they take. She wants to know how far away they are from Darla, she tries to find a landmark so that they’ll know which way to go to get back. There are no landmarks, just rolling waves of snow. She can’t even use the stars because she can’t see them (not that she's particularly good at navigating by the stars anyway.) There will probably be another set of snowfall while they’re in the caves so their tracks will be covered soon. She doesn’t like it.

She can’t stop the mantra of _‘what if we get stuck out here’_ playing in the back of her head. Bow has a trackerpad and all of them have transmitters so they’ll be able to get back. They’ll be fine. She just can't seem to fully convince herself of that fact. Adora knocks her shoulder, a look of _‘it’s going to be okay’_ passes between them. She tries to give a reassuring smile. She trusts Adora. She holds onto the frozen pin in her numbing hands, latches onto the happiness it brings her to be wearing it. She knows Adora sees.   
  


Something appears on the horizon, a rising mound of glowing snow. She sighs in relief, it has to be the entrance to the cave system they've been informed of, where they would be spending the majority of their time here. Gods she hopes it'll be warmer out of the wind.  
“This is the entrance,” his voice leaves no room for a continued conversation. The silence falls heavy and unnatural. They’ve been in situations like this before though, they can handle it. Every planet is different, they probably have a reason for limited speech. Conserving energy perhaps? She doesn't know.

Snow lies sparsely at the entrance, the light feels blinding in Catra’s eyes after the walk in growing blackness, her eyes squeeze shut as they adjust and she buries the hiss that rises in her throat. The floor morphs into packed ice covered in rugs made of the natives fur, if the texture was anything to go by, there are track lines indented on either side. Catra is slightly glad of wearing shoes as she walks over it, even if they do inhibit her sensitivity and agility. She doesn’t need agility, she doesn’t have to fight and she doesn’t have to run away.

The tunnel is tall and glittering blue, carved out by long-dead ancestors (that is if these guys don't live for thousands of years, which honestly they might, she has no idea.) She runs claws over drawings and writings in the walls, careful not to damage. The decline isn’t steep but it’s long enough that by the time she sees the end her ears are popping under the pressure. It is warmer outside the biting wind, she fully unwinds her arms from around herself. 

The floor caves deeper as the ceiling runs higher, curving unevenly into a dome supported by square ice and white stone pillars. She looks up to the ceiling, illuminated by a sea of shining orange gemstones that peek out the ice like daggers. The whole dome is stained with their light, pin pricks of it shine through the walls where they sit embedded within snow and ice. This bare white planet is bathed in orange, a strange mirror of an Etherian moonset. She looks back down to see the Ollisions around them when her neck starts to hurt, taking in how the natives now glow orange as well, their fur reflecting. They almost look like her.

Adora, Bow, Glimmer and Wrong Hordak are all in different stages of awe as they, too, gaze upwards. Even Melog looks curious as to the surroundings, Catra scratches their head gently. They’re being stared at, but none of the Ollisions make any sound. Catra takes in the numbers, there are a fair few of them just this one dome, but no clones. In fact, no Horde tech of any kind. She comes to the conclusion that they’ve either destroyed or moved it, considering the indents in the walls that are printed with circuitry. This first dome, she assumes, is a prep-room of some sort. There are stacks of supplies being piled up on sleds ready for some kind of delivery.

There’s a distinct lack of sound echoing through the cave tunnels that stretch out in front of them, only the soft clang of tools and footfall.  
“Can I ask why you are loading up supplies onto sleds?” Glimmer is the first one brave enough to break the silence, using her kind and diplomatic voice that she's always been better at using than her.  
Whichever one speaks doesn’t turn back to answer, “We supply our sister planet Dorboros with food. They bring space-faring ships for collection.” It’s gruff and stern, their voice rough from what Catra guesses is a lack of use.

The high rising tunnels link dome after dome, varying in size, they pass through two that are empty save for crystals and tracks along the floor, no doubt left from the Galactic Horde. They turn left into a hub of sorts, there is a mass of natives on the floor. If they were making any sound it would look like a happy gathering, there are child Ollisions running around pillars giggling. It's a remarkably carefree environment. There are darker alcoves in the walls filled with more rugs and Ollisions, some are asleep - Catra figures this must be a housing dome. (She makes a mental note of their communal nature, since her and Adora are usually the ones to take the lead on these sorts of civilisations, at least when it comes to daily life. Turns out growing up in the Horde was good for at least something.)

There's more staring. She bites down on the skin inside her mouth to keep from baring her fangs. The biggest of the three Ollisions that brought them here gestures to the crowd with his hands like he’s talking, she notes how his fur fluffs and fingers - six on each hand - tap at air. Well clearly they do communicate, just silently. This both settles and unsettles her further.

She makes a second note to keep a close eye on her own limbs, if they communicate through gestures, she does _not_ want to mess this up by inadvertently offending someone. She looks to Adora, her eyebrows are scrunched as she puts it together. It’s cute. She doesn’t want to talk over...whatever is happening in front of her but she pulls Adora down to whisper in her ear: “I think they communicate through body movements.”  
Adora nods and stands up straight again, if Glimmer and Bow heard her they don’t make a reaction to the information. The inhabitants go back to their small movements, the low hum rumbles through the ice again.  
“This is one of our living domes. Come this way.”  
  


And with that they’re led off through another short tunnel, through more living domes and down deeper into smaller and brighter ones. There’s less staring, as if they were expecting them. There’s something like dirt here, mulchy and apparently incredibly fertile. The plants aren’t exactly green but close to it, they curl up the walls towards the lights. Snow seems to be packed in between the plants for a source of water, the crystals clumped into the soil as well for more light and maybe heat. Catra’s really not that interested in this place's agricultural practices even if she’ll probably have to eat the produce while they stay down here. She misses Brightmoon food.

The ice walls turn stonier as they get deeper and the light dims with it, they pass through more and more farm domes.  
“If it’s not too much trouble, do you mind telling us where we’re going?” Bow asks cautiously.  
“To our leader, xe is in the deepest of domes.”  
_‘How do you know?’_ sits on her tongue but she stills it. She hasn’t really gotten this whole nice and approachable thing down to a fine art yet, (she probably never will) she decides she’s going to leave that to the others. She’s already focusing on her limbs, she doesn’t want to have to check her words as well. 

It gets warmer the deeper they go, warm enough for all of them to want to remove their outer layers. Bow asks for them to stop. The Ollisions look mildly horrified at the removal of clothes, Glimmer assures them they are not, in fact, taking off their fur and/or skin. Catra unfastens her coat, moving the pin from it quickly onto her thick black jumper. Adora’s watching her again, and Catra loses her breath when she smiles. It’s the brightest thing she’s seen since leaving the ship.  
She notices that Glimmer is watching as well, eyes narrowed before widening with a sharp intake of breath. Catra knows she would say something if the current situation wasn’t happening, Catra just doesn’t know exactly what.

In a strange turn of events, the Ollisions seem the most comfortable around Wrong Hordak. They don’t speak with him but seem curious enough. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t remove his clothes as they do, or maybe it’s because they’ve seen his kind before. It would explain why they stayed wary of Melog. 

The whole debacle makes the entire situation tenser. Catra breathes a sigh of relief when they’re brought into a cavernous ‘room’ with what must be the leader. The entire place is wall-to-wall crystal currently being mined by a series of workers that pay them no more than a little glancing attention. The leader in question is no taller than the rest, the only clear difference is one of longer fur that doesn’t reflect the glow as brightly as the rest. Xe walks over slowly, fur trailing behind xim like a cloak. There’s some more silent communication that none of them can read.

Xe turns to them with orange eyes, “I have been informed that you cannot understand our telepathy.”  
Catra thinks it ought to be a question, it doesn’t sound like it. Understanding dawns on all of their faces, “No, we communicate verbally for the most part.”

Catra turns to Bow confusedly, he’s looking back at her. ‘For the most part’ the fuck does that mean? She feels her tail flick - oh, he was talking about her.  
“You are here to help us recalibrate after the demise of Horde Prime.” Again, another question that rings like a statement.  
“Yes,” Adora responds in much the same manner, adapting quicker than the rest as to how to approach them. There’s little need for pleasantries, which Catra finds refreshing somewhat. She was never really good at those.

Xe nods, appeased before turning xis gaze to Wrong Hordak. “And you have with you one of Horde Prime’s clones?” Xe looks confused. It grows when the clone in question winks back. Catra doesn’t blame xim.  
“We have brought him with us to show you how clones can be redistributed with purpose once befriended,” Bow says, always the one to explain it when Entrapta is not here.  
“They are not used to being free without orders and need guidance,” Glimmer adds.  
Catra doesn’t like the way the leader’s eyes narrow and study the clone, the way xis six-fingered hand moves along xis chin. It’s calculating and Catra can’t tell what xe’s thinking.  
“Follow.” They do.

* * *

Catra keeps track of every crossroads they come to, every turn they make but can’t keep the map in her head stable. There’s too many layers to it. She gives up. She turns her attention to other things, such as the name of the leader: Kyrif and the name of the crystals: sujanite. They are brought before an opening, clearly new if the rushed work on the walls is any indication. There are clones, one-hundred maybe, just standing there. They’re silent and still, eyes not glowing green, instead as white as snow. None of them move as they approach, the only thing seeming alive is an Ollision wandering amongst them clutching a blunt pike.

The image of what is now Wrong Hordak being forced into the acid bath because of her surfaces, his blank eyes devoid of everything. It’s followed quickly by that of Prime’s clones surrounding her as she’s forced under herself. She curls inward against the fear that still manages to stain her memories, she will _not_ be dragged down by this right now. She grits her teeth, keeping her tail and ears still. She glances down at Melog, who curls silently around her feet. She breathes; everything is okay. She forces herself to relax her grip on her coat in her hands.

“Brothers! Rejoice in the downfall of Horde Prime, rejoice in your freedom!”  
Catra rolls her eyes at his antics. He’s rushing through the rows of slouched clones, their white eyes unmoving.  
“What’s wrong with them?” Glimmer asks.  
“Interfering with the ports allows for us to shut them down for a time. We have kept them in this state for three years.”  
“Well that’s, uh, what we’re here to help with. We can help you help them.” Glimmer really does seem too peppy for the situation.

Kyrif nods, “You shall receive a residing pod for the period of your stay, you shall eat with us and meet with a council.”  
“Sounds great,” Glimmer seems more relaxed now that there is a plan in place, knowing that they are welcome.  
“If you want them to be useful to you, you have to let them wake up.” It’s the first thing she’s said in front of these people and she hates how uncomfortable their pure orange eyes make her. She’s afraid her tone was too sharp, feels her tail curl around her leg.  
“The process will begin after rest.”

Nothing else is said until they are all back in the main hub, the six of them eating alien plant life around a set of crystals. Bow tells Entrapta not to expect them back and fails to convince her to sleep. They are to all share a ‘residing pod’, it’s small and cramped with mountains of rugs, walls made of ice and few crystals for light. But it siphons heat into a cocoon around them and that more than makes up for it.  
“Sleep pile!” Glimmer sounds way too happy at the thought. Catra groans. “We know you love it Catra, it’s a cat thing.”  
“You shut your bitch ass mouth Sparkles.”  
Adora laughs when Catra gets tackled by everyone else in a hug that throws them all to the ground. There’s a cluster of bodies in, on and around her. It smells like family. She hates that she likes it. She doesn’t purr, although she wants to, then they’d know they’d won. But she falls asleep to the whispered mutterings of her friends (and their arms) around her.   


* * *

  
The next day is a blur for Catra, the initial unease fades until she’s as comfortable as she’s ever going to be in this icy cave system. When she has time alone she maps out the network and observes the Ollisions - watches them as they work. They are all happy to ignore her and she’s happy to be ignored. She soon realises that the gestures made when communicating aren’t necessary at all, it’s just personality or something like that. It makes her less self-conscious of her own reactions. She explores mostly near the planet's center, preferring the inherent warmth there. They all meet with the council and it goes surprisingly smoothly, understanding comes easily despite the small language barrier.

When she’s not alone and wandering, they're recalibrating clones, making them rethink their ideology. It’s painfully slow work. A few of them recognise her; it’s horrifying. They say they can remember her presence in the hivemind and she wants to throw up. She doesn’t, she just leaves, winding with Melog back to the pod they’d been assigned. Adora comes after her, finds her taking deep breaths and clutching the gold pin in her hands. It’s grounding in a way she never expected, the metal heats up nicely in her hands. Adora stays with her and gently strokes the place where the chip used to be to prove it’s not there and Catra’s so grateful, she breathes her thanks into the crook of Adora’s neck. They don’t move until the next meal time when the others come to find them.  
Then it’s back to work.  


* * *

  
And so it goes on for two more days after that. The clones take to helping with the farming and deliveries and stockpiling supplies easily, ready and willing to take orders from anyone after so long. Integrating them into the Ollion society takes longer.

The group helps with carving a whole new housing dome for the clones, and Catra can’t say she’s missed manual labour that much, even if the monotonous action is oddly reminiscent of the first few months after the war. Her fur clings uncomfortably to her skin and she’s truly warm for the first time down here. 

* * *

Her and Adora are near the entrance of the cave, the wind isn’t blowing as strong as it was when they first arrived, but it is snowing now. The others are still down there, not wanting to be caught up in their childishness. Neither of them are wearing coats, both clothed only in thick compression tops, leggings and boots.

“I dare you to stand in the snow for fifteen seconds.”  
“Adora I will freeze, I’m covered in sweat.”  
“I’ll do it with you!”

She groans, head back. It’s all for show; she’s been wanting to do something stupid and reckless for a while now. She’s missed their childishness amongst the space diplomats they’ve had to become, and as hard as that image was to cultivate, reverting back is as easy as blinking.  
“Alright dummy, but if we get sick you’re telling Bow it was your fault.”  
“Deal,” they move closer to the entrance, hair whipping up in the wind that gets sucked into the planet’s throat. Catra’s already laughing at the rush that fills her. Adora’s looking at her, smiling wide, “On three. One, two, three.”

It’s a bad idea.  
They don’t get sick, at least Catra doesn’t think they do, but ice starts crystalising in Catra’s fur and along Adora’s hairline when they run back into the cave's mouth. She shakes off the snow from her hair and takes in the cold-flushed face of her girlfriend. They’re both laughing again from the thrill and icy wind exiting their lungs. 

Catra feels wide awake, like she can do anything. And what she does is pull Adora into a kiss, muttering about sharing body heat like she needs an excuse. They’re both breathing too heavily for it to be a proper kiss but neither care, Adora can’t stop laughing into her mouth and all it does is make her adrenaline induced euphoria run higher. Either way, she knows Adora can feel the rumble of her purr against her lips.

Adora keeps her arms around her as they head back into the tunnels, Bow and Glimmer react as expected. They’re all laughing as well by the end of it. Melog tries to lick the ice from her fur as it starts to melt and Catra has to push them away, allowing them to curl up in her lap.   


* * *

  
They’ve been on this planet for five days now, or near enough. They’re leaving today as everything seems to be settling down with minimal disasters. Clones are getting on with their new lives and the Ollisions are adjusting pretty well, all things considered.

Catra’s collected her coat from their residing pod where it’s been lying for days - she hasn’t needed it. She feels her ears flick back towards a sound and she can’t understand why she finds it strange for a few seconds. It’s the loudest it’s ever been down here. There’s a mass shuffling in the main hub, a flurry of worried hums ricocheting off curved walls. She looks around for what’s wrong but there’s nothing. She runs deeper into the system, towards the abnormal sounds, trying to find someone else with Melog on her heels. She finds Adora by scent alone.

“Melog go find the others and stay with them, if you feel something bad from me come find us okay?” Melog meows, running back towards the surface. She takes Adora’s hand, “What’s happening?”  
Someone who is not Adora answers, “Collapse. Trapped.”  
“Where?” Adora’s got that determined look in her eye, one Catra hasn’t seen in a while. She’s missed it.  
The Ollision doesn’t talk again, she points in a direction and they go. It’s clear the message and warning is spreading silently through the natives. It’s more chaotic than ever in the small winding network of tunnels. This deep there’s no one here, they’ve all evacuated to higher domes.

“Now where?”  
Catra puts her hand to the wall, feeling for the lingering vibrations as she’d seen some Ollisions do a day previous. “I think it gets stronger down there.”  
Then they’re running again, Bow, Glimmer and Wrong Hordak don’t join them and there’s no time to find them.   
  


The collapse isn’t too bad, some pillars had crumbled within the mines, trapping an unknown number of Ollisions. Kyrif is there, xe’s talking to the Ollisions trapped behind a stone wall. There are two collapsed tunnels branching off the one they’re all in, which for now seems stable enough. Catra runs to the other tunnel, trying to find a big enough breech while Adora talks to Kyrif. Something grabs her foot and she jumps, fur puffing up in alarm. Six fingers scratch at her ankle for attention, there’s a big enough opening for the Ollision to make it through if Catra can dislodge the rock enough. Adora comes over, together they can lift it enough for the Ollision to escape.

“Just me,” he says before running over to Kyrif. Catra and Adora let the rock fall back down. She sucks in a deep breath, feels the muscles of her arms burn with disuse. Even the workouts she and Adora do three times a week (sometimes more) apparently aren't enough for this to be easy. The Ollision leaves after going over to join Kyrif by the first blocked tunnel. There’s fewer gaps in the broken wall, Catra can see through parts but none of the breaks are big enough for any to escape. They try to move the rocks but they don’t budge.

“Catra I don’t know how we’re going to move the rest of this.”  
She rolls her eyes in spite of the situation, “You do remember that you’re She-Ra right?”  
Had the situation been different, Catra’s sure Adora would have blushed from her own embarrassment. Instead all she says is: “Oh, right.”

Adora backs up and Catra motions for Kyrif to let go, she ignores the look on xis face, unable to interpret it. A sword made of magic materialises in her outstretched hand when Adora shouts, _“For the Honour of Greyskull!”_

The light’s as blinding as always and yet Catra can’t tear her eyes away. And there she stands; She-Ra in all her glory, glowing with barely contained strength. She scarcely fits in the tunnel, her golden hair flowing despite there being no breeze so close to the planet’s center. Catra’s staring, she knows she is, _She-Ra_ knows she is if the smirk she gives her is any indication. She feels heat leak out from under her high neckline and into her hair. Heat that definitely isn’t caused by the planet's warmer center. She hates it.

The sword is plunged deep into the stone, cuts through it like it’s paper. Some of the boulders are pulverized, white-grey dust fluttering to the orange-stained floor. Catra rushes over, ignoring every part of herself that wants to just keep looking at She-Ra, to reach a hand through. But the gap isn’t big enough for anyone to be able to pass.  
“Can you lift it?”  
She-Ra scoffs, muttering a mocking repetition of the question before hooking her hands under the boulder blocking most of the way. She does manage to lift it, and pretty easily at that. Catra helps the train of Ollisions as they escape the mining dome. No one is hurt seeing as the rockfall only happened due to the collapse of two pillars. Only Kyrif remains with them.

“We know of She-Ra.”  
“Uh, you do?” The aura around her fades fast, like someone’s snuffed out a light. Gravity seems to take hold of her again and golden hair spills around her. Catra tenses, they’ve been through this before. She’s prepared for hostility almost too quickly.  
“Clones.” It does nothing to ease her.  
“Ah.”  
“You defeated Prime.”

She-Ra nods, Catra can feel those burning eyes on her, knows that Adora wants to say _‘We defeated Prime’_ as she always does whenever someone leaves out her actions. But Adora also knows that Catra doesn't care nearly as much, she’s gotten the recognition for her actions and plans, no one takes credit for her work anymore. 

However the urge to just stare at her has returned, Catra forces it away, swallows around nothing. Instead keeping her eyes firmly trained on Kyrif. Xe’s once again got that calculating look upon xis face and Catra doesn’t like it, she’s worn that face before and not much good ever came out of it. But this is different. This is okay, she’s just being paranoid.  
“We thank you. You shall eat before you leave.”

Both of them simply nod and Adora returns, magic flowing away, before heading closer to the icy surface. It feels safer with Adora there, the feeling she doesn’t want to name remains but it simmers quietly under the surface. It doesn’t scream for attention anymore. Catra takes Adora’s hand as they walk. 

* * *

Glimmer, Bow, Melog and Wrong Hordak are all in the housing dome they’ve been staying in. The trickle of Ollisions back down to the farms and mines is slow, Catra doesn’t think she’s ever seen so many of them in one place. There are a lot more of them down here than she had originally thought.

The meal is relaxing and aids in washing the excitement away. Kyrif and a few of the Ollisions that have actually engaged with sit alongside them, though they say little, only responding when directly spoken to. Catra still studies the way their bodies move as they communicate, every interaction is so layered but she still can’t truly see it. She would feel slightly embarrassed by it if it weren’t for the fact that the Ollisions do the same to her when she’s talking with Melog.

“Goodbye travellers. Mahriph will show you out,” Kyrif says as xe stands once more.  
It’s about as warm as Catra’s come to expect from the Ollisions and she finds that she might miss it. It all seems just a little bit simpler here, she likes it. Kyrif ‘says’ something to Mahriph then heads further down into the caves.   
  


They collect their things, what little of them there are and head to the entrance. Mahriph walks them to there, for what reason Catra doesn’t know. But it’s one of the most typically polite things to happen on this planet.  
“Visit our sister planet Dorboros, they are in much more need of assistance than us. They relied on the Horde for supplies as the planet itself is dead, and now they rely on us. Their atmosphere is the same, you will be safe.”

It might be the longest speech an Ollision's ever made. The group simply nod, Wrong Hordak waves cheerfully as they set off into the dying blizzard.

The way back is shorter, they use Bow’s trackerpad to find Darla easy enough, although the snow corrupts even Catra’s vision, the lantern and Melog’s glow doing little to provide enough illumination. And yet the whole time Catra can’t stop looking at Adora beside her. She reasons that that is not exactly unusual, but it feels different. Stupid beautiful Adora and her stupid beautiful alter-ego.

Entrapta doesn’t wait for them to pass on a message saying they’ve arrived, she probably uses a scanner to see them because the door opens immediately to greet them. She lifts her mask to grin at all of them before wrapping them up in her hair in some weird hug. Catra has to admit that even Entrapta has gotten better with affection. But the hug is quick, she’s already asking Wrong Hordak about the Ollion tech. She’s greatly saddened when he informs her of the distinct lack of it. The door slides shut but the lost warmth doesn’t return right away.

“Hey Entrapta, I think we’ve got a new next destination,” Bow says as he removes the first of many layers.  
Her eyes light up, “Oo, where?”  
“Dorboros, Ollion’s sister planet.”  
“I’ll set a course.” Bow kisses Glimmer’s cheek before he and Wrong Hordak run after her in the direction of the bridge. 

Catra smiles inwardly at their antics. She and Melog shake the snow from their hair, provoking grumbles from Glimmer and Adora (as well as laughs.) Once again, she catches Adora smiling at her, eyes seeming to glow with magic. That feeling she doesn’t really want to name comes back.  
“I’m going to go change out of these clothes,” she says, walking swiftly from the loading bay. She knows she should shower but she’ll let someone else go first. The longer she can put off being in water, the better.  
_“I’m going to eat.”_  
She knows Melog hasn’t exactly been enjoying the Ollion diet, and neither has she, but at least it’s better than ration bars. “Knock yourself out.”  
She doesn’t bother to watch Melog as they walk further down the short hall to the supplies room/kitchen.   
  


She unlatches the panel acting as a makeshift wardrobe once she gets to her bedroom. Pulling out any clothes she wants that aren’t already in a pile on the floor (there really isn’t much left in the compartment after the month in space.) She fully intends to warm up under a mountain of blankets and try and forget the burning in her stomach. Adora comes in casually, like nothing’s wrong. And nothing is wrong, this is just Catra being weird.

She had thought Adora was going to shower but apparently not, or maybe she is and she’s just come to collect some clothes. Catra changes quickly, trying not to look at Adora at all when she does the same. It doesn’t work as well as she hopes. She keeps catching glimpses of bare skin and instead of her usual train of thought, she’s taken down a road of _‘what ifs’_ about She-Ra. What her skin looks like up close, how similar it is to Adora’s, do they have the same scars and freckles? But she doesn’t know because Catra never really let herself look. Not properly anyway. Sure, she's kissed She-Ra but Adora always came back before anything else happened. The shame and the heartbreak and bad memories always stood in the way, even after Prime. And as bad as that was - is, maybe? - this is different. She understands this heat that tugs at her, she just doesn’t like why it’s there.

She finds that she’s put distance between herself and Adora, the bed is right next to her but she doesn’t want to sit down. She wants to watch Adora but she won’t allow it, she tears her eyes away whenever she realises she is in fact, looking again. She really has never been able to stop looking at her.

“What’s got you acting all weird?”  
“What? I’m not being weird.”  
“Yeah, you are. Have been since the cave collapse.” She doesn’t look at Adora directly, her tail flicks sharply. “Is it about She-Ra?”  
She hates that her ears flatten when she’s found out. “Maybe.”  
“Well it was your idea to use her.”  
Air rushes out of her in a huff, Adora was so stupid sometimes, “Why would I be upset about that?”  
“Well she’s not made an appearance for a while, and I guess I maybe thought you’d be uncomfortable with it? I don’t know Catra.”

 _‘You should tell her,’_ she knows she should, doesn’t mean she wants to. She’s gotten better at knowing when to listen to herself and when to definitely not do that, unfortunately this is a situation in which the former applies.  
“I missed her, okay.” It’s a half-lie, easier to say than admit the truth. She’s not blushing but it wouldn’t be hard to get there.

“You missed her?” the disbelief in her voice is understandable. She knows Adora’s not going to give up on this, she’s got her arms crossed and that look on her face. The one Adora uses when she knows she’s lying about something she’d rather not admit to. The one that stays there until she comes clean. It’s been a while since Adora’s had to use it. Catra doesn’t even bother glancing at her to see if she's right, she knows that it’s there, can feel it burning into the side of her face. Catra growls, feels her tail flick again.

“Fine,” she moves closer, if she’s going to admit this then she’s going to do it with false confidence. She _will_ make Adora as flustered as she is if it kills her. She might be okay with being vulnerable around Adora, but She-Ra is a touchy subject, Adora knows that. She finally meets Adora’s eyes, her gaze steeled, unwilling to let any of her embarrassment show. She slinks closer, bridging the gap she made slowly. She savours the power she feels with Adora’s eyes on her, uses it as fuel for her act. 

When she gets close enough she uncrosses Adora’s arms for her, throwing them down to her sides so that Catra can press up against the full length of her front. That look gets wiped off Adora’s face as she drapes her arms around her shoulders, claw tips as light as feathers running paths along her neck and jaw. Her tail wraps itself around Adora’s waist, and she feels Adora’s hands land on her hips lightly, like she’s unsure if she can. (It's adorable really.)

Her own faked confidence begins to fade as she tries to figure out what she’s going to say. She can’t keep the eye contact, so drags her lips lightly across Adora’s cheek to her ear to whisper, “Maybe I forgot how hot She-Ra was.”  
Adora shivers lightly beneath her and she drowns her own embarrassment in Adora’s scent, kissing up and down her neck while she waits for an answer. She smells different, it’s her but lingering magic crackles in her nose. It’s addicting.  
“Thought you didn’t like She-Ra?”  
She can hear the way that Adora’s typical smugness at such an admission has been distorted by Catra’s mouth and hands on her skin. She feels some of her confidence come back, not much, but enough for her to be able to answer.  
“Well that, Adora, was before She-Ra got a makeover and became a more ripped, seven foot version of you.” It's painfully accurate. 

She bites lightly at Adora’s neck, half because she wants to, the other half is to hide her still lingering shame. Adora pulls on her hair to get her to look at her properly, Catra makes a small noise of protest that really doesn’t sound like it at all (because Adora knows exactly what she likes and is cruel and uses it when she's trying to hide.) Adora doesn’t say anything though, leaves her hand where it is, fingers tangled in her mane. Adora studies her, her eyes and her mouth. The urge to just _move_ makes Catra want to squirm away from the gaze, but Adora’s arms lock around her and the urge dies suddenly.

If Adora was looking for something in her face she must find it because she draws her into a kiss. Catra's arms tighten around her shoulders, trying to pull Adora into her. It’s harsh and passionate and intense. Catra thinks she can taste energy on her tongue. She feels like she’s being consumed by love and magic with the way it makes her own skin, and the skin under her hands, buzz. It’s like it was in the Heart, but that was their first kiss. It’s nothing like that. Except it’s everything like that. The love and joy at having each other is still there, if anything it’s stronger.

It steals the breath out of her and she has to pull away, her arms slipping from their place around Adora’s shoulders for reasons she doesn’t care about right now. Adora’s own breath fans warm across her cheek as she presses their foreheads together. Catra’s skin makes contact with something metal and she opens her eyes. She’s face to face with blue fire and oh, _that’s_ why it was familiar.

She can’t stop herself from laughing, “Oh, hey Adora.”  
She-Ra laughs with her and it makes the floor tremble. Catra takes a moment to adjust to the sudden changes in her sensations; the way their bodies had separated due to She-Ra’s much taller height, the way the hands in her hair and on her waist are so much bigger, fizzing with the ability to crush her if she wanted. She pulls her face away to just take it all in, she’s not glowing like earlier, she seems more of Etheria rather than the stars. She-Ra stands tall above her, the ship's light dyeing her blue. The distance between them is the only thing allowing for Catra to keep meeting her eyes (and keep breathing). A hand slips from her hair to her shoulder and Catra can’t stop the way her eyes are drawn to the movement of muscle by her head.

“I wasn’t actually expecting you to do it.”  
_She-Ra_ looks embarrassed, and it’s so _Adora_ that Catra can’t even differentiate them anymore. She’s not sure she wants to.  
“Oh, well I can transform back -” She goes to pull away but Catra drags her back by her arms which hold onto her waist again gently. And maybe she keeps her hands on those arms for longer than strictly necessary. There’s this prominent knowledge that She-Ra can break her and it sends her adrenaline racing and makes her blood burn hotter.  
“I didn’t say to do that either.”  
Red-pink stains her cheeks and it’s one of the best things Catra’s ever seen. Some of that false confidence morphs into the real version and she can’t stop the smirk that takes over her face.  
“Why are you so smug?”  
“Because I can get the oh so mighty She-Ra to blush.”  
She’s being a little shit and she knows it. But Adora can react one of three ways to it, and it’s always fun to try and guess. 

Something steels in unnaturally blue eyes as She-Ra bends down closer to her, a hand leaves its place on her waist and she feels oddly cold. She-Ra's hand moves upwards and Catra feels strong fingers that hum with immeasurable power softly grab her chin to keep their eyes locked. She can’t stop the way her eyes widen and mouth drops slightly open.  
“Do you think that I can’t do the same to you, kitten?”  


_'Fuck.'_  
“That’s not fair,” she barely manages to choke out as magic seems to pulse heavy in her veins where it soaks into her skin. She knows she’s blushing as well, it was the whole point of whatever this is. It might mean she’s losing, but she finds that she really doesn’t care. She doesn’t much care about anything other than the hands on her skin and the gaze so intense it might as well be holding her.  
“Never said it was.”  
“Kiss me.” It comes out before she can stop it.

She-Ra smiles and maybe she is glowing, Catra doesn’t care as soon as lips meet her own. It's not the first time she's kissed She-Ra, not even the first time she's had her tongue running along her lips. But it's the first time where there's a real possibility _Adora_ won't be coming back for a while. Power surges through her and it burns away all the guilt and bad memories in a cleansing blaze. It forces her claws out and she winds them into pale gold hair, softer than silk. She bites down on She-Ra’s lip, finding it doesn’t break under her teeth like Adora’s. There’s a heady moment in which Catra realises she can let go, if she accidentally scratches too deep or bites too hard, she’ll heal immediately. 

(Not that Adora is ever that upset if she somehow ends up with red lines marking up her skin, in fact she encourages it, against Catra's better judgement. Catra has long since learnt that the closer Adora gets to that edge, the less she cares about her own self-presevation, which would stress her out a lot less if she didn't have claws.)

But that Adora isn't here right now. There's strong hands wrapping around Catra's thighs and then she’s being lifted, their bodies reunited as She-Ra stands to full height. It steals her breath as expected. She hooks and squeezes her legs around She-Ra’s waist, hands still in her hair, sparing a few moments to appreciate the way muscles move around her on all sides. She can feel the roar of her own heartbeat in her throat, pulsing in time with Adora's. Some part of her is still cataloging the ways in which She-Ra and Adora are different, because where Adora has an addicting mix of hard and soft, She-Ra is a dense burning wall. Her hands untangle themselves from She-Ra’s hair and they move to claw at unyielding shoulders.

She-Ra speaks into her mouth, it’s smug and Catra knows she’s earned it, “You _do_ like this.”  
Catra doesn't stop kissing her, she doesn't think she can. She’s long past caring how breathless her voice is, “What in Etheria gave you that idea?”  
“You’re purring dummy.”  
Dammit she is, and she hadn’t even realised. She seals their lips back together with more force and She-Ra steals the traitorous purrs and moans from her mouth. A hand moves to her back under her shirt, pressing her deeper into She-Ra’s arms. A mouth latches onto her neck, her purrs grow louder and claws dig deeper.

She thinks the magic is making her drunk because she finds she can’t string a sentence together for a few minutes. Whenever she tries some embarrassingly pathetic sound comes out and she gets pulled in tighter. (Not that she's exactly complaining about that.) She knows her back hits the bed, she just doesn’t know when. One minute she’s in She-Ra’s arms with lips kissing every inch of her neck and feeding her growing heat, the next she’s on her back having the breath torn out of her once more as a thigh gets pressed between her legs.

Her head thumps against the bedding and She-Ra pulls back and just...looks. Catra manages to find her breath again but doesn’t move. A hand strokes down her cheek and Catra knows she’s going to say something sappy and heart wrenching and she’s not going to be able to talk again. So she squeezes her tail tighter around She-Ra’s leg, not remembering when it found its place there, she watches the way She-Ra snaps her mouth closed.

“I know we just got changed but want to help me out of my clothes?”  
She-Ra laughs and it shakes her whole body, maybe even the whole room, as power surges before settling back into its proper form. Catra can hear her own heartbeat again, loud as thunder.  
“I could tear them off you if you want.”

Catra finds she can’t respond to that for a few seconds, minutes, whatever. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes to shield herself from the intensity of She-Ra’s gaze. Her voice comes out about as weak as expected, “As much as I would love that, we do have a limited amount of clothes.”  
She-Ra frowns and _there's_ Adora, hidden under it all. It’s enough for Catra to smile. “But we’re going home soon.” Catra doesn’t respond, eyebrow raising at the whine in her voice. “Okay you’re right.”

Hands pull her up into She-Ra’s lap and she can’t help kissing her again, rocking against her and whining, high on the energy she can taste. It’s only when those same hands start tugging at the hem of her shirt does she remember what she asked for. When the fabric is removed Catra moves her mouth to what little of She-Ra’s neck isn’t covered in gold, running her teeth and tongue along the exposed tendons. Catra's hands scramble to find purchase on the plains of her stomach, she doesn't know if anything tears but She-Ra lets out a gasp and her head is thrown back further. And that first sound she audibly draws from She-Ra makes power swell within her. 

No one has ever gotten to have this, and no one ever will. The beloved She-Ra is as much hers as Adora is, she wants to mark her, let everyone else know it. But She-Ra heals and all the claw marks she might be leaving in her sides will fade quickly, if they even remain when she transforms back at all. She feels the tension in the muscles under her hands, knows Adora is trying to keep still and just let her have this. And she appreciates it, it makes love flood through her and turns her kisses lighter. But she also wants whatever Adora wants, and if Adora wants to move by the gods Catra will let her. She lifts She-Ra’s hand back to her hair and it grips tight immediately like it’s a lifeline. She hears her own moan but it’s distant in her ears and she’s long past caring.

She drags sharp teeth from She-Ra’s neck down to the arm that’s near her head, ignoring the metal unfortunately covering her shoulders before indulging in whatever thought and want comes to mind. And there are a lot of thoughts and wants when it comes to those arms (she's not above admitting that she's thought about _this_ before.) She splays her fingers out across the expanse of muscle under them, pressing into them, and drinking in the way She-Ra’s breath hitches like Adora's does, her fingers tighten in Catra’s hair and it sets her alight from the inside.

She-Ra’s free hand strokes gently over her neck, like she’s treasuring her pulse and it makes her shiver. Catra goes willingly when she’s guided back to She-Ra’s mouth, her vision goes hazy as magic pours back into her. Her eyes slide closed but everything still burns gold and white.

When She-Ra throws her onto her back and crawls on top of her, caging her in burning heat, she doesn’t fight it. She growls at her, demanding her closer, falling into it when She-Ra obeys her without a second thought. And it's the trust that action makes her feel that allows her to surrender coherent thought to the goddess above her. 

* * *

“We should probably shower,” Adora says when they’ve caught their breath. Catra doesn’t remember when she changed back but she doesn’t really care.  
“Probably.”

The high isn’t gone yet and it stops her from moving. She’s floating and finally warm after Ollion. They’re moving, well Darla is anyway, already back to flying through space.  
She stares at the purple-blue ceiling when the reality of the situation sinks in. But it doesn’t sink in, so much as hits her like the shock of a Horde baton, her laugh rings out into the silence.   
Adora shifts onto her side, “What?”

“I can’t believe we just did that,” she’s still laughing when Adora joins her, no longer rattling the room.  
“Can’t believe you let me.”  
The laughter fades. Catra drags her hands down her face, groaning as she does, “Neither can I.”

The blood rushes to her face under her hands, Adora leans over her, takes her wrists to pull them away. Without She-Ra her eyes don’t glow, but they’re still somehow just as intense. It softens when Catra actually looks at her, understanding what she needs right now like it’s the easiest thing in the universe,  
“Hey it’s okay.”  
“Is it?” It’s weak and vulnerable and accusatory towards herself. She doesn’t care, she just needs Adora to calm the storm that’s brewing in her head.  
“Yes. It is,” Adora presses a kiss to her forehead, hands smooth down the sides of her face, another is pressed to her cheek. One hand moves to Catra’s shoulder in a hug, half her body blanketing her. “It was fun and harmless and I love you.”

“I love you too.” She takes a breath, she’s glad Adora’s not looking directly at her. “Thank you, for being so understanding about this.”  
“Believe it or not, I do know you Catra.”  
“After all this time you fucking better.”  
Adora’s laugh ghosts over her cheek and she sits up beside her, “Come on, get dressed and we’ll go shower.”  
“Seems kind of counterproductive.”  
Adora shakes her head but she’s smiling, “Just get dressed.”  
Catra follows suit, sitting up in a mess of bedsheets, “Kiss first.”

She purrs into it and Adora’s grinning the whole time. Any lingering guilt is stripped away. Adora throws her clothes at her from wherever they ended up, Catra dresses and takes Adora’s hand when it’s offered to her, tail winding around their connected arms as they walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part one because this chapter alone is 10000 words, the next part will pick up exactly where this leaves off. It’s also where the graphic violence comes in. This was basically the longest set up ever so I added another make out/sex scene. (Also love the idea that when Adora bottoms she has literally no self-preservation at all and Catra has to use the braincell.)
> 
> Me writing that Adora stands up straight was one of the weirdest experiences of my life, the girl has never done anything straight in her whole life.  
>  I also may have exposed myself a little but oh well. No WLW is immune to She-Ra this is just fact. And Catra is so valid for being mildly obsessed with She-Ra’s arms, because same.  
>  I also really didn’t want to tackle the ‘can She-Ra remove her clothes?’ question so.


	7. Paradise By The Starship Light (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking the suggestion to go to Dorboros may not have been such a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it means anything I’m basically saying Don’t Go is canon so.  
> This is the first proper action scene I've ever written so I'm sorry if it's awful.  
> TW: graphic depictions of violence, blood, and all associated battle things

Adora awakens with a start beside her as Entrapta’s voice screeches through the telecoms she had updated and re-installed. _“Dorboros approaching in eleven minutes.”_ Then it cuts out with a crackle.

Catra groans into the pillow, “Hate those things.”  
“I know but they are kind of useful. And at least there’s not a screen in here.” Adora’s fingers run through her hair a couple times before her weight leaves the bed. Even Melog whines at the interruption from where they were asleep on Catra’s pile of clothes.  
“Ugh.”

She drags herself from the warmth of their bed, going over to said haphazard pile in the corner. The next planet is going to be dry and not too warm, apparently having no temperature extremes at all. Not since the Galactic Horde had gotten ahold of it anyway. She dresses in her normal clothes, oddly grateful for not having to wear shoes. She pins the gold wing near her collarbone, above her heart. She stands in front of the mirror in their room, looks at herself and the way stars reflect beside her. She looks at Adora in the mirror too, where she’s collecting her clothes and a hairband.

“Hey can you pass me one of those?”  
“One of what?”  
“Hairbands dummy.”

Adora looks way too shocked for the simple request but hands one to her anyway. Catra smiles, turning back to the mirror and pulling her hair up, refusing to look at Adora who’s standing there dumbstruck. The band snaps tight against her skull, chunks of hair are out of it but she doesn’t care. Her eyes meet Adora’s in the glass, “What do you think?”  
“Yeah, it’s good,” her voice is humorously weak, Catra smirks.  
“Why was it so important to you?”  
Adora shrugs, “Had a dream. You looked good. I was right.”

She was. But now it’s Catra’s turn to stare, and she does so unashamedly, as Adora gets dressed. “Are you ever going to get tired of the fact that you can do that now?”  
She pretends to mull it over, “Um, no. Not at all.”  
Adora huffs a laugh to cover the light pink staining on her cheeks. Catra loves that it’s still so easy to make her blush. Loves that she gets to kiss her every time she wakes up, like she does now. 

_“Catra, Adora are you awake?”_ comes crackling through.  
She growls quietly as Adora extracts herself from her hands, running over to the pad by the door, holding the required button down and assuring them that they’re on their way. She can see the excess energy Adora’s holding inside, she’s practically buzzing with the need to just _get out_ after so long in the cave system. Catra’s feeling abnormally okay, even if the novelty of space travel is wearing thin by this point and she mostly just wants to go home, she’s also happy to be here with everyone. They jog lightly to the bridge as the planet approaches.

* * *

Their next stop grows bigger, the entirety of it swaddled in orange cloud, a single white moon orbits it, broken and chipped. What once must have been a series of rings has been reduced to a small white belt of Horde debris and unidentified rock that glows. Inactive Horde ships hang in the void like daggers, without clones connected to the hivemind the ships are inoperable. It doesn’t ease Catra’s discomfort at seeing them. 

It’s with some sick dread that Catra sees the surface of this planet ‘Dorboros’. It reminds her too much of a long lost home. She gasps unintentionally, tears threaten to prick at her eyes. They’ve seen Horde planets, sure, but it’s something about the grey-purple dusted desert and looming cliffs like claws that brings memories forwards. She fights it down, focuses on the pressure Melog exerts on her legs where she stands. They don’t make a sound, understanding that she doesn’t want to draw the others' attention. As Darla lands on the top of a cliff where there’s a large flat plain and an easy slope into the main valley, the ground spits up a cloud of sand that falls rather than blows away. 

“It looks like the planet where we met the Star siblings…” Adora trails off.  
Catra has only a vague idea of what she means, the name having been mentioned a few times with little detail. But Catra guessed what she meant; dead. There's no natural life here save for soldiers and clones.

There's a town - city really, the biggest she's ever seen - a mile or two ahead of them. The buildings are all polished white and black, green light rising through the streets like a river of poison. It’s ordered like the Fright Zone never was, and she’s never appreciated how different Hordak was to Prime until this moment. It's not a mess of green and grey metal and smog, it’s clean and advanced and neat. The city on the horizon stands proud and Catra wants to cough against the fear leaking into her throat.  


She looks to Glimmer, sees the apprehension in her eyes. Because while the Fright Zone was home, Prime’s ship was hell, and Glimmer had been with her. She understood, was feeling it too. She walks the few steps up to the Princess and places a clawless hand on her shoulder, one of Glimmer’s comes up to grip it as they stare.

“Another dead planet.”  
“That we can help.”  
“Maybe.”  
She’s not used to being the optimistic one. It feels wrong.

They wait inside Darla for a few minutes, gauging the reaction of the inhabitants. No one comes to meet them, there’s no signal or any response at all. It’s eerily still. Catra feels her ears flatten, she removes her hand.  
“I don’t like this.”  
“I know but they need help, just like everyone else.” Adora’s words don’t shift the knot in her stomach.  
“Entrapta, run a scan.”  
“Sure thing!” 

At least Entrapta’s unaffected by this place, if the look in her eyes is any indication she’s just excited to get more tech for Darla after her disappointment regarding Ollion. Purple hair runs across a keypad, screen blinking to life on the control board. A growl sits in the back of her throat when heat signatures start appearing. They’re moving closer to them, some already nearby but unable to be seen. She looks up and out the window, squinting her eyes when something catches her eye. “There’s a group in the valley,” she says, voice steady. They’re wearing all white but are so far away even she struggles to see them. They’re gathering near the bases of the cliffs, slowly making their way up the slope. 

Entrapta rises up on her hair, looking down at the crowd, “Oh that’s bad.”  
“Definitely not friendly?” Even Bow’s optimism is dampened by this place and the growing numbers of people they have yet to see.  
“Well, they are wearing all white and carrying banners with Prime’s flag.” Catra sees Glimmer grimace, no one moves, unsure of what to do. Maybe they’re just doing what they’ve been trained to do - show the strength of Prime, even if he is dead. “Oh, and they’ve got an army of bots with them.”

She growls louder, Melog shifting to red. “Can you get us out of here?”  
“Yes.” Entrapta’s hand hovers over a button.  
“Then lets -”  
“Wait,” Adora grabs her hand, eyes serious as she thinks it over, “If they have such a large base here could they figure out how to get those warships working again?”  
“We just told Ollion how to use the clones.” Dammit Bow had a point.  
“What if they start trying to take back the empire?”  
Catra doesn’t think it would get that far but a base and army this strong is a definite threat to any peaceful planets nearby. She turns and runs down the hallway.

She hears Glimmer call after her, “Where are you going?”  
“Weapons!” she calls back, already prying open a crate - there’s no time for a key she tells herself. Footsteps patter hurriedly down the hall, as she digs out a bow and arrows as well as a staff for Glimmer.  
“We were set up.”  
_‘Yeah no shit, Bow.’_ Melog is red, angry and pacing in the doorway.  
“Clearly the planet's alliance is still firmly in place even if Ollion isn’t actively remaining in the Horde.”

She looks over to Adora, who is bouncing on the balls of her feet, she’s steeling herself for her first proper battle in three years. Maybe it won’t get that far though, maybe it’s just them being paranoid.  
“I hope they like sparkles,” Glimmer says, stretching her arms out.  
“Glimmer you don't have magic here, not even sorcery.”  
_‘Shit.’_ But no, Catra reasons, they might be down on glitter magic but Catra saw her in the Battle of Brightmoon, when she escaped Prime's ship, knows that even without her powers she can put up a damn good fight.  
“It’s okay Bow, Glimmer’s got this.”  
Gods she hopes they survive this. It’s been a long time.

* * *

They stand in front of the bay doors, out the way enough to not be seen when they open. Entrapta is to stay on the ship in case they do need a quick getaway per Catra’s idea, Wrong Hordak is to go out first seeing as maybe they won’t shoot one of their own - maybe. He’s to run back inside at the first sign of violence, he won’t have a weapon so they’ll know who’s firing. 

“We’ll follow your lead, Catra.”  
She nods at Glimmer, standing with Bow and Wrong Hordak on the side opposite. Her claws are out as far as they can go, glinting blades in the blue light of the ship. Her fangs are bared; she’s ready to fight. She doesn’t have Melog here to calm her, she wants to keep them safe and hidden. They had growled about it, insisting that if it got too bad they would come help. She had agreed reluctantly, but she finds she doesn’t need Melog here, the battle calm seeps into her bones and head easily. It’s like it always was. She’s done this before, she’s always been good at waiting for the right time to strike. It'll be fine.

She can feel Adora’s breath behind her, she’s trusting her, they’re all trusting her to lead this. A crackle makes her hiss, she’s listening too closely, Entrapta appears on a screen above the doorway. _“They’ve asked for She-Ra. What should I tell them?”_  
Adora mutters “Oh I’ll give them She-Ra,” and Catra throws a hand in front of her to stop her from moving. She does not need Adora rushing into this, but Adora stays still. Catra looks at the screen, points to the door and nods. The metal slides upwards and no one moves.

“We demand to talk to the She-Ra, murderer of Horde Prime.”  
The sound echoes, sounding oddly static and she wonders who, or what, says it, but that doesn’t really matter. She decides she does _not_ take kindly to her girlfriend being called a murderer. Especially considering the ‘victim’ is Prime. 

She motions to Wrong Hordak to go and he does, face a fake smile. They’ve given him all the white clothes they could find but his blue eyes remain the same, she doesn’t know how anyone outside this door is going to react and she has to be prepared for anything. Her ears are as alert as they’ve ever been, twitching for every sound. The army isn’t too close, one hundred meters or so. And they’re not surrounded considering the hundred or so meter drop on their left, an unintentional advantage. Weapons don’t fire immediately which is good. She hates not seeing but she didn’t think to use a mirror or anything.

It’s muffled behind a mask, she thinks, when the next one speaks, “Do you come with the She-Ra?”  
Wrong Hordak, ever tactful, ignores this. “Brothers, lay down your weapons for you are free. You are no longer bound by orders from Horde Prime.”  
It’s still again for a few moments, maybe they’re not a threat. Maybe they do need help and guidance like everyone else. Maybe the part of her that wants to see the good was right.  
“We do not want to be free.”

So much for hoping.

The first blast fires and Wrong Hordak runs back inside. Catra motions for them to go, but it's not strictly needed; Adora is already in the doorway shouting, sword manifested in hand and shouting. The space behind Catra lights up white as she runs. She-Ra sweeps a rainbow arc through the air and it pushes the majority of frontline soldiers back, sending them stumbling, she pays no attention to the shouts from those who drop off the cliffside. Her, Glimmer and Bow are running towards this army, working together while She-Ra handles whatever she can.

It doesn’t take all that long for it to turn bloody, it drips from her claws like water. She’s not trying to kill, just enough for pain to render them useless. The ground is thrown up with the force of She-Ra’s sword, rising spiked pillars of rock and dirt hurling bots into the air. There’s a slew of of them punctured through the middle by Glimmer on Catra's left, green lightning encasing them. Another set is torn through with arrows, trick or otherwise.

Somewhere through the throbbing of her own muscles and the roar of the blood in her veins she realises that this is the first time she’s fought _with_ her friends instead of against them. And fighting the Horde no less. If fate wasn’t such a sore spot with her, Catra would’ve found it funny. 

A soldier strides in front of her, blaster attached to their arm like an extra limb. What’s strange is that they find the time to speak to her, even as she’s ripping metal apart with her bare hands.  
“You cannot beat us, murders, you’re outnumbered and overpowered.”  
Catra can tell this is their first battle, the way they step nervously around her instead of just fighting. They’re clearly not smart enough to be gauging her weaknesses like she’s doing. So she laughs, closing her eyes for a second just to really drive home how little of a threat they posed to her. It does what it always does, undermines confidence, unsettles all those around her. There’s hesitation. It’s an opening. Then the blaster is laying on the ground in pieces, blood pouring from the legs of the soldier, now sprawled and weaponless on the ground. 

There’s no high places on this desolate planet for her to climb, she can’t jump down on them from above as she so loves to. Her agility is used solely for dodging and speed, a contrast to She-Ra, slow and powerful and absorbing hits like minor nuisances. Catra can see why the bots are losing against her, they’ve clumped them together, She-Ra can just sweep them away in one hit. What they should’ve been doing was spreading them out around her, so she can’t hit them all at once, or use big enough bots that she can’t knock them over. They need to distract her and strike the legs or the back.  
She shakes her head, tearing into white metal as she does. Old poisonous thoughts. She doesn’t want to take down She-Ra, she wants She-Ra to win. She loves Adora and right now Adora is She-Ra. And she looks amazing. All flowing hair and rippling muscles and raw fury in her eyes, celestial glow never fading. It looks strangely _right_ , to see She-Ra fighting again. It makes her own adrenaline surge and she turns back to the bots advancing on her. 

She dodges through a rain of fire, limbs twitching as fur gets singed. She slashes at the legs of soldiers and rips the blasters from bots. When she re-orientates herself she’s with Adora, She-Ra towering over her. Catra hurls a bot into the ground, circuits fizzing out on impact and panels flying off. She finds herself pressed back to back with the Princess.

“Just like old times, huh Adora?”  
She swings round to claw at a soldier on She-Ra’s right, armour doing little protection against her claws as metal crunches under her hands. Blue blood sprays across the ground, soaking it. Adora covers her back with a magic pulse as she tackles something else to the ground. They move like they’ve done this every day of their lives. 

She's thrown into a series of memories, of the times training _with_ Adora instead of pitted against her. They were always the best days in the Horde, they’d both come out of it high on their own victory - and it was _always_ a victory. And sure, she has to take She-Ra into account, her size and strength, but it’s an advantage in their favour.

“I don’t exactly remember Lonnie trying to kill us.” She-Ra kicks a loyalist into a wave of bots, knocking them all down into dead soil.  
“Not you maybe. But she definitely had a grudge against me.”  
“Only because you were better than her.”  
Glimmer runs over, shouting over gun fire, “Can you guys stop flirting for one fucking minute?”  
Catra tears circuitry out of another bot, it goes dead in her hands, “No can do Sparkles.”

She whips another over her shoulder and into the ground when its human-like form runs up behind her. It sparks and she jumps out the way of the small explosion. More and more crowd around them, and she can’t see Bow but she trusts that if something had happened to him Gimmer would know.  
“I’m going to lead them away!” She-Ra shouts from behind her shield before throwing three soldiers on the other side to the ground. They’re moving but the ground stains blue like the Whispering Woods.  
“And give up the high ground?”  
“I don’t need the high ground.”

She-Ra’s sheer confidence and matching smirk makes Catra feel things that one should definitely _not_ be feeling on a battlefield. The white aura burns brighter like fire, golden hair defying gravity and blue eyes distancing themselves from anything but the battle. She-Ra lures a troop over the edge and down the slope till all Catra can see of her is light. 

She can’t hear the groaning of injured soldiers over another wave of fire and shouts from those still charging at her. There’s blood in her mouth that’s not hers, fangs having been buried in smooth flesh as someone grabbed her from behind.  
Whoever had snatched her called out his triumph, “I’ve got an ally of She-Ra!”  
Only for Glimmer to appear in front of him after swiping away a bot that not only was she She-Ra’s _girlfriend_ but that Catra, in fact, had him. 

He realised this when fangs bore down on the sensitive bare skin of his arm where it was too close. Catra had shredded the tissue of his stomach for good measure. Flesh squelched when she sank into it with bladed hands and feet, and she realises she doesn’t miss it. The pain that she used to cause is there again, it’s power is beckoning once more. There’s no time for her to be horrified. There’s more bodies rushing at her.

There’s so much taking over her senses; the melting of galactic metal, smoke and her own burnt fur in her nose and mouth, but her eyes don’t water against it. Everything is sharp and violent. She’s got a wound leaking blood slowly down her right arm where a bot got too close but it’s not too bad - she’s had worse. The dust in the ground changes under her bare feet, it’s sticky with blood and clumping under footfall.

She hisses and snarls at soldiers, whipping her head round to check on the others. She-Ra is magnificent as ever, throwing back whole lines of bots at a time. Bow has enough ammo for now. But Glimmer doesn’t see the bot that’s preparing to fire at her, it’s out of her peripherals, coming at her from the left. Catra sprints, dodging blasts and bots and soldiers and shoves Glimmer out of the way. It works. Glimmer is fine, she's safe and still fighting. Catra however, is not.

A green blast hot like the center of a star strikes her left side, tears it apart in fury. If she screams she doesn’t hear it. If her body does anything other than fall to the ground, she doesn’t feel it. All she knows is the burn that scorches from under her ribs and sears it’s way up to her face and down into her thigh. 

She hears Glimmer shout her name, though it’s watery and distant and over the rush of blasters and general chaos, Glimmer cries, “I can’t teleport,” to nobody in particular.  
She sounds scared; she forgot again. She reaches an arm up to comfort her, but her limb won’t move how she wants it. She thinks shock has set in, there’s a ravine between her mind and body. Clumps of fur tear near cauterized wounds, it hurts so bad. She sucks unsteady, desperate breaths in through her teeth. She doesn’t know how long it’s been. Shock starts wearing off.

Even the air feels like it’s trying to burn her from the inside out. Her eyes are still open and while she can’t see everything through the distortion of skin on her face, she can see enough. Can see Bow running towards her and the bodies of soldiers and machinery settling in dust through the red and black that slowly starts devouring her yellow eye. The full force of the pain seizes her after that and she hasn’t felt pain like this in over three years, this screaming burn in her blood. Adrenaline is keeping her awake. She doesn’t want to be. 

Melog runs out from the ship, huge and spiked and red. They roar, the soldiers stun for a second at the shifting mass of magic that barrels through them ignored by the robots. The cat reaches her, and Glimmer and Bow lift her onto their back, she thinks she screams at the pain but there’s no time to be careful. The last thing she sees is She-Ra’s golden glow where it shines above the cliff’s brink, bright as a moonrise on the horizon.

Her vision blacks out and something feels wet, blood has stopped oozing shallowly from above her eyebrow but continues to flow from her left side. Melog’s shoulder blades bracket her body, barely keeping her on as she’s rushed back to the ship. Muscles move under her, pressing into burn wounds. That little metal pin on her chest is uncomfortably hot from the blast and is digging in slightly but it’s the only thing she can focus on anymore. Her lips tear under her fangs and she tastes blood. 

They must be inside Darla because the movement underneath her stops, she takes a shaky breath, she doesn’t open her eyes.

 _“Help her!”_ Melogs words float through her head. Something must happen despite no one else understanding them because the material under her changes. It’s probably a bed, and she’s probably moved onto it by Entrapta’s hair, but she can’t tell.

She’s on her back and the pressure on her wounded side makes her scream her throat raw. Hands roll her gently onto her (mostly) uninjured side, her arm scrapes on soft bedding, the fabric getting caught in the cut. It makes her shout again, it doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as the burn.

She can make out Entrapta’s voice but not the words, dimly she hears Wrong Hordak call her his sister, it’s only the sadness and worry in his voice that stops her panic. She tries to get her breathing under control, tries to slow her pulse to keep blood loss to a minimum.  
_“Catra, stay with us Adora’s gonna be here soon.”_ She can’t even tell if it’s her own head making it up but it’s the last thing she hears clearly. She feels adrenaline burn away to make more room for the mind numbing pain.

She thinks she blacks out but she knows every second of agony. She can’t hear anything anymore, can’t feel the hands that worry over her and loses track of time. It’s a strange sort of floating, because she isn’t, not really. She’s falling into blackness and it catches her, begins dragging her down with a force stronger than gravity. Occasionally a green blast pierces the darkness but it’s only a flash of a memory. If there’s something triggering these visions she doesn’t know what it is. She can’t distinguish the feelings in different parts of her body, the burn spreading like wildfire.

Sometimes there’s blackness, sometimes white, sometimes green. Catra’s sure she’s going to die. No sounds break through her mind's barrier again. She’s drowning and it burns like the acid; Prime’s done it. He won even in death. It’s fitting. If she could laugh bitterly at it she would.

A buzz like magic enters, wrestles its way in through her wounds, it floods and she goes under further. It’s familiar, though she can’t place it. Everything goes white again, burning gold. 

Pain drains away like runoff water. It doesn’t burn anymore but a deep echo of it keeps a tight grip on her bones. Air rushes back into her lungs and it tastes like fire, she coughs against it weakly. Her consciousness has returned alone, bringing with it nothing, no outside sounds or smells or sensations. When memory makes an appearance it tells her she’s done this before, on this very ship three years ago. But it doesn’t mean anything to her right now.

It feels like hours before the watery blackness fades and reality comes crashing back down. In actuality it’s barely a few seconds. She squeezes her eyes shut, it’s dark but her eyes still sting.  
“Catra, baby, please wake up.”  
It’s the only thing that’s been able to penetrate the veil. It’s so broken Catra almost sobs alongside it, but nothing happens, she doesn’t move at all. She can’t yet. Something is pressed against her forehead, she recognises it as skin; touch returns. It’s everywhere, under her legs around her chest, on the back of her neck. She doesn’t even have to open her eyes to know whose arms are holding her.  
“Hey Adora.”

It’s rough and choked and cracked but it leaves her mouth. Water splashes onto her face, sinking into her fur like rain. Arms around her are shaking minutely. All at once every touch is too much and not enough, she’s hypersensitive and numb. And yet she knows she’s pushing into the body holding her as much as she can. She blinks weakly, surprised to find that she can do it at all. Her face is wet with tears she must’ve shed, more roll from her eyes without permission.

When her vision finally clears she’s looking at Adora’s face, she’s not glowing, in fact she looks as bad as Catra feels. There’s some blood - blue and red - and burnt skin stuck to her forehead where she was pressed against her.  
“You know that’s fucking disgusting right?” She reaches a shaking hand up to poke at the gunk on her face. It falls heavily to her shoulder, she doesn’t even care how weak she is.

Adora laughs, not because it was actually funny, but from overwhelming relief. It’s a feeling Catra knows well, can recall from her memories of the Heart with perfect accuracy. Adora is holding her, squeezing her into her chest and the hand on the nape of her neck joins the other around her back.

The taste of blood lingers in her mouth, stolen by Adora’s sweetness when she kisses her. It’s breathless and tainted by salt from Adora’s tears. She can’t find it in her to move, the best she can do is cradle Adora’s face with the hand that had fallen to her shoulder. It doesn’t stay there, gravity acts too strongly on the limb, it slips down her chest. Adora keeps their faces close, her breath washing over Catra’s lips. 

“Do you - Do you want to sit up?” Her voice breaks and Catra feels the remaining ache in her chest pull sharply. She’s still crying, and Adora wipes the water from her cheek. Catra wants to close her eyes and sink into the moment and the warmth around her but she can’t. She wants to kiss away Adora’s tears but she doesn’t move.  
“I’m good here Princess.”

 _“Are you okay?”_  
She tears her eyes (and her eyes alone) away from Adora’s face to look at Melog where they perch with their front paws on the bed. Her right hand shakes less than the other one did when she reaches it over to scratch their head. She tries to get a grip on all the love she feels for Adora, Melog and the rest of her friends, tries to push it through to the cat looking at her worriedly.  
“I am now, yeah.”

Melog purrs under her hand and Adora sighs against her cheek. Melog jumps up on the bed and knocks their head against Adora’s, it gets a laugh and a smile out of her at least, Catra can feel it pressed to her skin. Catra sees her own blood and tissue stuck in their fur and she thinks she might throw up. Melog senses this, as they always do, and starts cleaning. Adora pointedly does not look at the cat or the blood dyeing their fur redder.

Feeling comes back to her legs slowly. She sits up properly, still in Adora’s lap. She looks down, her clothes are repaired but soaked in blood, as are Adora’s where she cradled her to her side.  
“We’ve got to stop almost dying in each other's arms,” she’s trying to be joking but Catra can hear the thinly covered pain that poisons it.  
“You’re only saying that because I’m winning two-for-one.”

Adora tries to laugh but it comes out more of a sob. Catra takes her hand back, wrapping both arms firmly around Adora’s neck and sitting up more to hug her properly. Catra whispers all the reassurances she can into her ear, doubting Adora’s really hearing them. Adora buries her face into her shoulder, pressing Catra as far as she can into her, like if she can hold her tight enough she’ll be able to keep her safe forever. Adora’s breath rattles against her throat unsteadily her hand trails down to her side, like she’s making sure the wound isn’t there. Catra can feel the magic pooling in her renewed skin under her touch. It makes her suck a breath in through her teeth. Suddenly she’s out of the embrace, Adora’s hands both gently holding her sides above where the wound was.

“Sorry, does it hurt?” She’s way too panicked and there are still tears brimming in her eyes.  
“Few aches but I’m okay.”  
Adora strokes the side of her face, smoothing hair and fur back into place, “Are you sure?”  
“All healed, okay?”

“There was a gaping hole in your side Catra!” She’s not expecting the rise in volume, it makes her flinch. Adora apologises, and she’s sucking in ragged breaths, face turning pale.  
“Yeah well I’m fine now.”  
“I saw your ribs -”  
“Adora…”  
“- And your intestines were black and -”  
“Adora! I’m fine, I’m alive and it’s because you saved me. Again.”

Adora looks sick, almost green. There’s a sheen of sweat covering her face and she looks exhausted. A tear tracks it’s way down her face and Catra does as she wanted to before; she kisses it away softly. Adora whimpers and Catra thinks if her own heart breaking had a sound it would be that.

“I didn’t think I was going to be able to. I already gave too much away healing the planet, I - I didn’t think I would be able to save you too.” It’s a whispered admission that cuts Catra to her core.  
“Adora, love, you were strong enough. Everything is okay.”  
“I nearly forgot how it feels to think I’ve lost you.”  
Catra swallows against the tsunami of emotion in her throat, “I’ll try not to make a habit out of it Princess.” And maybe it doesn’t work, maybe she cries a river of tears when Adora kisses her, maybe they both do. 

“Do you need anything?”  
“Water, maybe some food.”  
“Okay, okay,” her voice is soft and reassuring but she moves, and it makes Catra’s stomach sink. Arms unwrap from around her back and hands come up to hold Catra’s wrists where they sit secure and unmoving around her neck. As those hands draw back Catra grips them vice-tight, claws digging into her wrists deep enough to mark. She starts purring, not from contentment, just from the need for Adora to stay.

“No,” panic colours her voice, it’s desperate and needy. It makes fear rise in Adora’s eyes and she’s already rechecking all her non-existent wounds.  
“Are you hurt?”  
“I’m fine just...promise you’ll stay?”  
“Of course, I promise I’m not going anywhere.” A final press of lips to her forehead and then Adora calls Bow in, Catra’s purr leaves with the knowledge that Adora is staying.

Along with Bow, both Glimmer and Entrapta enter, they’d obviously been waiting outside the door. Catra guesses Wrong Hordak is ‘driving’, it doesn't fill her with much ease but there's not anything she can do about it. And all her friends being here is sweet of them.

“H-” She didn’t even have time to get the word out before Bow and Glimmer tackle her to the bed and out of Adora’s lap. She doesn’t wince as her back hit the bed and she’s almost proud of it.  
“Are you okay? Is everything better?” Even after all this time, Bow’s voice still cracked when he was stressed. Catra feels herself smile. She also feels Entrapta’s hair pet her on the head.

“You have been successfully healed by She-Ra’s magic again. How does it feel?”  
“Like cold water and electricity in my skin.” Her voice is hoarse and she’s reminded of how much she really does need that water.  
“Isn’t it fascinating?”  
Catra doesn’t know if it’s rhetorical so she just nods. Whatever Entrapta wanted from her, she must have gotten because she leaves the room and honestly, Catra doesn't expect anything else. The two bodies on top of her let up and Catra groans from the pain in her spine. Adora’s hand lands on her knee, comforting warmth. But she’s not crying again, or checking her over so Catra takes that as a good sign.

“Hey can one of you get her some water? And some food?”  
Bow nods, patting Catra’s hand before leaving again. She watches him as he leaves, not wanting to meet the intensity of mauve eyes. Turns out she doesn’t need to because Glimmer pulls into another (albeit more gentle) hug.  
“I’m so sorry Catra. We always knew this was a possibility. We should’ve been more prepared.” She lets her go.  
“I don’t know about you but we’ve been training three times a week, I was totally prepared for this.” Everyone is silent. “Okay maybe not the dying part.”

Adora’s face turns dark again, and Catra can feel her own ears drop. She cups her face but it’s like trying to bring the sun back out; it doesn't work. Adora’s hand lays over hers and Catra can see her trying to smile. Her hand drops and she turns back to the Queen.  
“That’s twice now you’ve saved my life.”  
“Yeah, well think of it as repayment for all the times I tried to kill you," the _‘and for making you lose your mother’_ stays silent.  
“Still, thank you.”  
If she could teleport, Catra knows Glimmer would. Instead she sighs before walking away, sparing the couple and the glowing cat on the bed one last friendly glance.

Bow comes rushing back in with a bowl of snacks and a bottle of water, she takes it gratefully, smiling at him, then he leaves as well.  
Adora shifts to lean against the wall/headboard of their bed, taking the food with her and leaving an arm out, “Sit with me?” She sounds exhausted, bone-weary and drained.

Catra brings the bottle and settles into Adora’s side like a puzzle piece, purring into her neck. Melog sits across their legs, purring and glowing pale cyan. She gulps down water and it’s the first thing that hasn’t felt like a fire in her throat, it’s infinitely more soothing than she thought it would be. She eats slowly, Adora’s hand running casually through her hair and freeing it from the ponytail that managed to survive the battle. as she does. She suddenly understands why Adora's kept the same hairstyle her whole life. It's definitely durable. The food’s not as good as Brightmoon’s but at least it’s more familiar than Ollion’s vegetable diet.

* * *

“I need a shower,” she says when the bowl sits empty between them.  
Blood still clings to her clothes and fur uncomfortably and she wants it out, she wants to curl around Adora and try and forget that today happened. Even if she never will, memories always stay.

Adora stands when she does, and while Catra wants to make a comment about it, her legs give out before she can. Melog is there under her and Adora catches her in her arms before she lands on the floor in a heap. She sighs and Adora lifts her back to standing, everything has a dull ache. There aren’t any scars, nothing but clumps of blood-matted fur tear when she moves, her skin sewn back together. Her body feels like not-hers, she feels like a stranger in it.

She leans into Adora, smelling her because at least that’s normal. She still smells like home even with the clinging scent of power and blood and smoke. Adora is all too happy to comply, never once breaking contact with her as they travel down the small hallway, clean clothes piled in their arms. 

As Catra cleans herself in the water stream of the single shower on the ship, Adora doesn’t leave. She cradles a hand, one at a time, and scrubs the blood off them. She holds Catra around her waist and lowers her to the floor when her legs want to collapse. The water is warm but Adora’s heat burns hotter into the bare skin of her back. Adora runs hands through her loose hair and fur to rid it of the planet’s lingering dust. It’s all so careful and Catra doesn’t know how to feel, part of her wants to scream just so they can go back to normal. Another part revels in it and a darker part makes her remember the last time she’d been healed on this ship. It's a roiling mix of happy and sad and hurt and sorry.

Adora helps to dress her in sleep clothes despite insisting that she can do it herself. Adora’s own clothes weren’t removed at all and so drips water onto the floor. She doesn’t even bother to towel off before she leads Catra back to their room. She quickly strips the bedding that’s covered in blood, leaving it outside the door and then locking it, not caring about whether or not Melog can leave as she normally does. The cat in question shrinks down and stretches out at the end of the bed by Catra’s feet. She watches Adora stare at the button for the telecom, like she’s debating breaking it.

“Adora, get changed and come here.”  
She obeys immediately, leaving wet clothes in a pile they’ll have to clean up later. Catra bundles into the bed while Adora changes, feels it sink under her weight when she joins her and curls in. 

As they lie together Adora holds her, fingers and arms never losing tension. It’s tight and it’s too much in the best way. Tears run down cheeks occasionally in the starlight but they’re replaced by determination. Adora’s angry; filled with rage that she ‘let’ it happen, that they weren’t better prepared for a fight, that they had to fight at all. Catra just has to wait it out from the safety of her arms. 

It gives way easily to guilt and regret and _‘my fault’_ that Adora's so good at. She says:  
“I’m never going to let you go.”  
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”  
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been there.”  
“Promise you’ll never leave me?”

All of it breaks her heart. Some of it a mockery of their younger years, so much so that she says it, trying to lighten the tense and vulnerable atmosphere. Adora laughs into her neck where she’s buried herself, but Catra feels more tears soak into her skin. She replies with:  
“I’m so sorry, love.”  
“I promise I’m never going to leave you.”  
“I love you with everything I am.”

She promises so many things, some she knows she can’t keep, there’s always a risk of breaking them. There will be other battles to fight and She-Ra can only do so much, but she doesn’t say it. She kisses Adora with all the love she can, trying to sedate her enough for her to sleep. It works at ending her sobbing but she remains stubbornly awake. And so Catra does too, it’s only been half a day since they’d last slept anyway, she doesn’t need sleep, just rest.

* * *

It’s been hours, lying in Adora’s embrace, listening to Adora breathing her in, her breath washing against her neck, steady like the tide. She tries to be quiet about it, but Catra can feel every twitch when she starts thinking about today again.

She reaches up and twirls a strand of damp golden hair around her fingers where it’s fallen over her shoulder. Her side twinges even if she’s not putting any weight on it, it won’t be perfect for a while but she knows Adora’s latent magical abilities will smooth most of the remaining pain away by tomorrow morning. Catra wonders how quickly her wounds and bruises as a child would have healed if Adora held her like this every night. Maybe she wouldn’t have any scars at all.

It’s eerily quiet when someone speaks again. But the moment doesn’t shatter into fragments, and she doesn’t want to pull from the vulnerability she’s feeling like she would have not so long ago.  
“Catra?”  
Catra chirrups a response unintentionally. Even after so long it’s still embarrassing. Damn Adora making her feel comfortable and safe and unjudged. Any other situation and that sound wouldn’t have ever seen the light of day (or the void of space, more accurately.)

“Fuck.”  
It’s whispered into her neck and Catra can’t tell what it means. Adora doesn’t usually swear that badly, it puts her back on edge, ears flattening. “What?”  
“That was so cute.”  
Her ears flick back to their normal positioning, tail curling around Adora’s wrist where it holds her hip. “Shut up.”  
Adora squeezes her arms around her, making her faded purring come back. “I was going to try and start a serious conversation, and then you had to go and be adorable.”  
“Shut. Up. Adora.” She rolls her eyes at the words anyway.  
Adora hums into her neck, pressing a kiss to it before settling back into her original position. They both wait a few minutes before restarting any attempt at talking. 

It’s Catra who breaks the silence. “What did you want to talk about?”  
“Huh?”  
“You said you were going to try and start a serious conversation. And while I still don’t like them, we do have to have them.”  
“I know. Sometimes I think you’re better at this than I am.”  
“That’s bullshit.”  
“No it’s not.”  
She whines, “Adora.”  
“Okay, okay, I know.”

Adora takes a deep breath against her neck, almost completely buried in her mane like she can truly hide within it.  
“I think I forgot how bad it feels, you know, battles and stuff.”

Gods Adora's really going to open up the floodgates on this, isn't she? She doesn't want to do this. Doesn't want to think about the past, hates its very existence. But she has to do this, for her and Adora. To be better like she promised. But that first step is acknowledging how she's feeling about being in battle again, and she's been pushing that as far away as possible.  
If her mind could sigh, it would’ve. She starts dragging forth the lingering feelings.

First things first, bad or good? Both. Annoyingly both. It makes her want to growl to herself. It's never clear cut is it? But it felt bad, it _did_ , it felt awful. Her mind and body seeming now to want to remember every battle she's ever fought in. Those battles against Adora, leaving them both bloody and bruised and hurting (more than either one of them ever knew.) She hates that they’d had to grow up to fight a war with no choice and yet...because of that she needs it.  
And there's that decidedly _good_ feeling, sitting alongside it all. Over the past three years, she hadn't realised how much she needs that; the adrenaline rush of a proper fight. Where she doesn't need to watch her claws and how deep they cut, she can just let go. 

“But it felt good as well,” it’s whispered, not by her, but by Adora. Catra can tell she’s ashamed even if she can’t see her face, she doesn’t blame her, understands in a way Bow and Glimmer never can.  
“Yeah, it did.”  
A rush of breath flows into the thin fur on her neck. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

If Adora didn’t sound so upset by it she would’ve said something like: _”I’ve always thought you were crazy, I mean who willingly does one hundred push ups in a day?”_ but now is not the time. She's proud of herself for holding back, for not running from this anymore.  


She shifts in Adora’s arms so Adora is lying lightly on her chest and she can see her face. She places a hand gently on Adora’s jaw, trying to get her to meet her eyes. She does.  
“I’m never going to think you’re crazy. I need the fight just as much as you do. I don’t know what we’re going to do about it but...we’ll figure it out together okay?”  
Adora tilts her head to press a kiss into Catra’s pulse point on her wrist. “I don’t think I appreciate how much you understand me. Just because you always have.”  
“Yeah, well you can spend the rest of our lives telling me.”

Adora leans down and kisses her gently, no suggestion of anything more. It’s like another promise and it makes Catra’s lips twitch upwards. “You make me want to keep fighting, Adora. And not battles, but fighting to be better and to be happy. ”  
“You make me want to keep living.”

Even if she knows it, even if she had felt it being said silently into her lips in the Heart, hearing it aloud knocks the wind out of her. Adora's never said it in such simple terms before, like an undeniable truth. Not for the first time today, tears threaten to spill. 

She brings Adora down on top of her, enfolding her into her chest, head beside hers on the pillow. She’s heavy atop her but she doesn’t care, uses the weight to ground herself in the moment. Eventually Catra falls into something like sleep, it’s dreamless and she’s thankful. It doesn’t reinvigorate her like actual sleep but it stops her thinking and keeps overwhelming emotions at bay.  
  


* * *

  
It’s not the next day when they leave their room, but both Adora and Melog are hungry so they leave to eat. Her legs are able to hold her steady once again and none of her limbs shake even if they still spike with ghostly pain if she moves too sharply.

She doesn’t run into anyone else until after she’s eaten and dressed, sitting on Darla’s ‘windowsill’ on the bridge, finding peace in the low hum and streaks of white, yellow and orange stars create as the fly past. Entrapta doesn’t speak to her much, only occasionally engaging in short conversation unless Catra initiated anything science-y.

“Where are we going now?”  
“Etheria.”  
Her ears prick forwards like they’re making sure she heard right. “What really?”  
“Yes, we started a course back immediately after we left Dorboros.”  
“Oh.”  
“Everyone figured if you survived you’d want to go home.”

Leave to Entrapta to not pull punches - _if_ she survived. Gods she hasn’t had to think like that in years. They're right though, she's tired of space. She misses Etheria, their friends, and even though her true home might be with Adora, Brightmoon makes a close second. 

Eventually all of them are on the bridge together. Catra hops off her perch to hold Adora’s hand where she stands with Glimmer. The purple Princess in question is looking some strange mix of mad and upset, “When were you going to tell us that you’re engaged?”  


Catra’s ears flick towards the shuffling sound coming from near Bow. She ignores it, feeling her eyebrows shift into an expression of confusion. They weren’t engaged, as far as she knew. But then again she really did know all that much about it.  
Adora looks as confused as she is, “We’re not engaged.”  
Okay well that's reassuring.

Glimmer takes a moment, “But the pin.” She points to it where it sits above Catra’s heart again.  
“That was just a gift, Glimmer. I can give my girlfriend personal gifts right?”  
“Well of course you can, it’s very sweet of you but -” If they were on Etheria, Catra knows her hands would have started glittering.

Catra cuts her off, “But nothing. We’re not there just yet Sparkles.”  
Adora turns to her, mischief shining in her eyes, “Tell you what, if I propose to you I’ll tell you.”  
She shrugs, going along with it, “I think you mean when I propose to you, but sure.”

It works in infuriating Glimmer further, her arms fling up above her head, “It’s supposed to be romantic and thoughtful guys!”  
“Does that really sound like us?” Adora says casually as she drapes her arm around Catra’s shoulders. Glimmer’s face reads _‘don’t pull that bullshit with me’_.  
“Your first kiss happened at the center of the planet after Adora came back to life for you and it was then followed by her saving the Universe through the power of your love. _That_ is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”  
“You know what touche Sparkles.”

Glimmer sighs walking over to where Bow is lounging in the makeshift sitting area they’d given Darla’s bridge a few years ago. It’s not much but it is comfortable.  
Adora leans into her, “Ready to go home?”  
Catra continues to watch the stars, planets and galaxies, humming her agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Entrapta arriving on Dorboros: Upgrades, people. Upgrades.  
> Me thinking about Catra chirrups: shit, fuck, that's so fucking cute, ah shit.  
> Me realising I have to create two whole new planets with their own powers and culture, natives and weather for two chapters: Shit.
> 
> Battle strategist girlfriends who are both annoyingly impulsive; basically they're soulmates okay this is fact.  
> Also Catra, baby, I’m so sorry you had to suffer for the angst. I promise I love you. I swear I almost cried writing this.  
> I’m also sorry for using a meatloaf lyric for a chapter title. And having to use it twice.


	8. Did You Ever Think We'd End Up Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe they've seen the Universe but maybe Catra can't stop thinking about what they used to say; 'we'll see the world one day,' and maybe she wants to make that dream real without the threat of war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend listening to _watch you sleep._ by girl in red during the morning scene, just for the vibe.

“Do you ever think about how much we wanted to see the world when we were younger?”  
“Of course, I used to think it was all you wanted to do. And we’ve done it, we’ve seen the universe Catra, Etheria seems like a bit of a downgrade.”  
She scoffs, “You love this planet.”  
“Yeah, yeah I do. And I especially love the people on it.” Adora bends down and kisses her quick, and ridiculously sweet.  
“Dork. Don’t you want to see the rest of Etheria?”  
Adora shrugs, “I mean the war meant I got to see a lot of it.”  
How the hell is she still not getting it? “Yeah but both of us had missions, it doesn’t really count.”  
There's a pause that has Catra rolling her eyes. “So what, you want a vacation travelling Etheria?”  
“Yeah, I guess so,” she tries to play it casual to hide how much the idea excites her.  
“Just us?”  
“Just us.”  
Adora kisses her cheek, smiling wide, “I’ll ask Glimmer.”

Catra can’t believe it took them five years to decide to do it, but in their defense, Etheria was still recovering. Maybe it would never fully recover. They just didn’t know. What they did know was that She-Ra wasn’t needed in the repairs anymore, freeing Adora up to do fun things she never would have otherwise.

Sure, they had some fun trips around Etheria visiting Princess and other friends. And one visit to Mystacor that wasn’t exactly as calming as everyone said it would be. There was no training room for starters and everything felt just a bit too breakable, as evidenced when Catra broke some ‘ancient and holy crystals’. (Catra remembered fearing Glimmer’s aunt for the first time, that woman could be terrifying.) But Adora had stepped in and reminded the sorceress of when she was there the first time and apparently did the exact same thing. Maybe they really were meant for each other. By the end of the night they were laughing about it amongst cloud-soft bed sheets.  
And Castaspella wasn’t so bad as Glimmer made her out to be, in fact her and Catra got on much better than anyone really expected - that is to say they were expected to hate each other.

But they weren’t going to Mystacor, they were going everywhere, anywhere they wanted. The idea presented a new kind of freedom, because Adora wasn’t taking the reins, she gave them to Catra.  
_“Are you sure you’re okay with me planning where we’re going?”_  
_“Yes. For the last time, this is your trip, you chose.”_  
_“But -”_  
_“And don’t tell me either, I want it to be a surprise.”_  


* * *

“You said you didn’t want to know where we were going.”

Adora had complained when Catra wrapped a jacket around her face as soon as they got to the edge of the woods. This was going to be the first part of their big-little adventure and Catra wanted to make sure she got a proper send off.

“I didn’t mean that in a blindfold-me-while-we’re-walking way.”  
She rolls her eyes, her and Melog pushing more at Adora’s back to keep her on track. “Shut up, if you could see you’d know where we are, and I’m taking that surprise thing very seriously.”  
Adora huffs, “Well, yeah, obviously I can see that.”  
“You can’t see anything dummy.”

It takes way longer to get there than usual since Adora isn’t leading them. In fact it’s about midday and all three of them start getting frustrated. Catra swears she’s seen that rock and the family of whatever creatures twice already. Melog scouts ahead through the trees, calling back to them as they go. She breaths a long sigh of relief when thin smoke winds through the trees.

“Okay we’re here.” She removes the blindfold (jacket) from her eyes to reveal the wooded cottage.  
“You brought me to see Razz?”  
“Well yeah, I know you’ve been missing her and I thought that before we go -”

Adora cuts her off with a kiss, and the jacket falls from her hands. It’s over too soon and Adora presses their foreheads together, Catra doesn’t open her eyes to see her smile. “It’s perfect.”  
The pink woman comes barreling out of the house holding two baskets. Melog gets tackled for a few moments by her along the way. “Catra, Adora dearies!”  
“Hey Razz.”

The old woman drags her into a hug first and promptly lets her go again. Catra never fights it, mostly because they’re so quick that she can’t. Then it’s Adora’s turn, just as quick but she gets her name right. (They found that having Catra there made it easier for Razz to realise what time she was in, and so Adora never made a visit without her anymore.)

Catra remembers the first time she met Razz, old crazy, apparently moving-through-time Razz. There were few things, turns out, more strange than an old lady in the middle of the woods knowing your name. One of those things was that same woman knowing you entirely, as if you had met years instead of minutes ago, treating you like you’re an old friend. Catra has since learned never to ask what Razz means unless necessary. Throwaway sentences about the future have kept her awake far too many nights. One in particular being Razz calling her Adora’s wife. That had happened on their first visit after returning from the disastrous Dorboros mission almost two years prior. Catra guessed the pin she took to wearing at all times triggered something. Both of them had blushed whenever they looked at each other for two days after, and Glimmer had teased them about it relentlessly. It didn’t even make sense - they both joked about it all the time, both figured that’s where they’d end up. And yet the realness of it said by someone who can travel through time (or whatever happens to Razz) made them both messes.

But Razz isn't saying it now, and she has no right to fall into daydreams and memories. No, instead she'll wrap an arm around Adora's waist as she talks.

“What are we doing today Razz?”  
“Picking berries of course!”  


Adora laughs freely, taking a basket for herself and giving one to Catra. “Just like the first time," Adora tells her.  
  


Catra doesn’t know what they’re looking for, not really, so takes any berries she can find. They’ll figure out if any of them are actually edible later. But Razz seems happy enough with what she has. The old woman continues walking ahead with Melog happily beside her, but Adora turns back to her, smirking the way she does whenever she’s going to tease her. She's never really stopped being annoyed by it (and never stopped loving it either.)

“Wow. From leader of an army to a forager. I’m so proud.”  
Catra throws one of the berries at her head. “Oh as if you’re any better.”  
“Hey!” Adora throws one back.

And very quickly they’re out of berries, covered in purple and red and laughing on blue soil. She’d managed to tackle Adora to the ground and press a handful of berries into her face. Adora shoves back at her but makes no move to actually push her off. It has purrs filtering through her laughter and Adora smiling up at her giddily. Her hair is shining in the daylight that scatters under the canopy and she’s still as beautiful as ever. Even if she is covered in mashed up fruit and dirt.

The laughter dies down to breathy giggles and Catra looks around. Her hands meld into the grass on either side of Adora’s face. Gods she loves her much. She’ll happily look at this smiling face for the rest of her life. And that’s exactly what she plans to do. See doesn't need to look up to know (hear) that there’s some purple creature and its family wandering aimlessly very close to them. Other than that they’re alone. It takes her a minute to realise that that's not exactly a good thing.

“Did we lose Razz?”  
Adora shrugs underneath her, “Probably.”  
“Should we go find her?”  
“I mean she has Melog.”  
“Adora.”  
Adora’s hands on her hips squeeze tight, “Okay fine. Kiss me first.”

Catra does, tasting the strange juice on her lips, and feeling grass tickling the side of her face. Adora jumps slightly underneath her. She pouts when Adora stops kissing her but she’s laughing at the family of animals that are sniffing at her hair. She regretfully sits back on her haunches, Adora trying to follow her as she bats away the animals. She stands up, offering a slightly sticky hand. She already knows that the juice is going to be a _bitch_ to get out of her fur. But it's sweet how the animals seem to love Adora, or at least the berries that stain her clothes. Catra had once said it was because they could sense her magic, and Adora had accepted it, not having a better answer. But they also seem fairly content to leave her alone. 

They pick up their baskets before attempting to call out to the woman who could very well be on the other side of the woods by now.  
  


* * *

Not counting their visit to see Razz, their first stop on their proper trip away from Brightmoon is to Plumeria, seeing as Catra has never been - Perfuma spending so much of her time these past few years in the ex-Fright Zone. And this time it is just them, not even Melog is with them.

Catra honestly shouldn’t have been surprised that Perfuma’s kingdom is _the most_ fluffy, peaceful place Catra’s ever seen, it's unsettling to the point that she gets frustrated at it. She thought she was getting better at dealing with this stuff - and she is - but the Plumerians in their natural home are terrifyingly soft. Half of her wanted to tear it apart, but she doesn’t because that would be _bad_. A very bad thing to do but so fucking satisfying. The only thing not clearly drenched in _Princess_ is the fact that there’s no castle, and it makes her feel a little better. There was only so much she could take, but woods she could handle.

But she does like doing her meditating with Perfuma in the quiet of the woods when the Princess finds a moment to, she even lets Adora join them. It made her face light up. Turns out Adora is as bad at meditating as she was, her tongue sticks out the side as she tries to stay quiet. It makes Catra laugh, much to Perfuma’s annoyance.

“This is why we meditate alone, Catra. Adora is too much of a distraction to you.”  
“Oh how the tables have turned.” Adora is far too smug.  
“Adora?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Shut up.”

But Perfuma is the only friend they visit, and Catra quickly loses track of how many towns and villages they visit, most of them knowing who they are, but not all of them. And those are the most fun. When they can’t recognise Adora without She-Ra and they don’t get that special treatment, they have to work for their keep if they want to stay. They get to be alone, no crowds clamouring for She-Ra, vying for her attention. She’s just Catra’s.  
  


* * *

“Where are we going now?”  
Catra bites her lip, she knows that this might be the riskiest part of their little adventure (and that maybe she's relying too heavily on Adora's affinity for dangerous situations.) “Okay, promise not to get mad?”  
Adora's already suspicious and she guesses that's fair. “Why would I get mad?”  
“Well, we don’t exactly have the best track record there.”  
“Catra…?”  
“We’re going to the Crimson Waste. Surprise.” She pairs the words with mildly sarcastic jazz hands (something she’s picked up from Bow, although his are always genuine.)

Adora crosses her arms but she’s smirking, “I should’ve guessed.”  
“Yeah, you should have.”  
Adora throws her arms up, turning to grab her bag, “Fine, let’s go to the evil desert.”  
Catra doesn’t let her get that far, curling around her back, head landing on her shoulder, “Aw, don’t worry Princess, I’ll keep you safe.”  
Adora’s stomach flutters under her hands. “My hero.”  
She shrugs, nonchalant, “Eh, I’ll leave that up to you baby.”

She doesn't even need to look up to know what smile Adora is wearing - it's always the same when she calls her that. She just grins into Adora's shoulder, pressing kisses into the clothed skin she can reach.  
“Gods you’re insufferable.”  
“You love it." She nips at her jaw before letting her go. (She has no idea where her bag is and she really should go find it if they don't want to spend three days on the road instead of two.) "We’re going to have so much fun.”

She's not so blind as to miss the soft smile Adora gives at her excitement.

* * *

The Crimson Waste is different when she’s there for any reason other than (suicide) missions. The hot, dry wind blows dust into her fur but doesn’t clog it with sweat. Her hair is up in its increasingly frequent ponytail and it successfully keeps heat from pooling on her neck. Adora has even dressed up for the occasion, in her own way. She’s still wearing her jacket but the shirt underneath has had the sleeves cut off, courtesy of Catra, and she’s about as distracted by her arms as Adora is by her hair.

She thinks it really isn’t so odd that she missed this place, after all, it was the only place she’s ever felt happy without Adora. But it’s different, like everything else, it’s alive in a new way after the release of the magic at the Heart of Etheria. The sand is a mix of blood red, moonset orange and golden brown. The plants are purple and green like bruises, and she’s sure they’d look that way if they were to fly over it. There are even some living creatures buried in the sand, sheltering from the inescapable light in worn-away skeletons.

(Adora pretends she doesn’t see when Catra carves their names into a rib bone the size of a house.)  
  


They reach the gaping crevice housing the Valley of the Lost and it’s rainbow of inhabitants with hours of daylight left. Catra finds she's ridiculously excited to be here again, to get to look around and explore where before she had a mission she couldn’t deviate from. She laughs at the second-glances she gets whenever people see her, like they don’t know if they should bow to her or not. Like they’re unsure if she’s come back to claim the Waste once more. Adora enjoys it almost as much as she does. If she bares her teeth, some of them go running. It’s petty but it's fun. And Adora doesn’t stop her. She feels more wild than she has in years, maybe since the first time she was here.

It’s weird, nice-weird, to be here with Adora instead of tracking her down or stealing spaceships and swords from her. She half-expects some Princess to attack her when she turns corners. She definitely gives some cactus roots some uneasy glares where they creep out the walls. The roots come down into the valley now, whether through Perfuma’s magic or the planet’s, she doesn’t know.

News of Catra’s arrival winds through smooth rock paths like a river, she hears it whispered in the deep purple shadows. Part of her begins to expect trouble, she’s not exactly opposed to the idea. She knows that at least some of the people here can put up a decent fight, but she also knows that she’ll win. She drags Adora by the hand into a bar filled with reptiles and mammals alike. Only some stare. Others whisper her name to their colleagues.  
“Wow, you really left your mark on this place,” Adora sounds too cheery, she’s out of place in the best way. A beacon in this dark dusty hole. But her words also resonate because yes, she did. And she's okay letting herself feel proud of it. 

As they come closer to the bar, some of the patrons move away, most just avert their gaze. They sit at the stone bar, side by side and unbearably close. She’s got an image here, but she realises she doesn’t care if Adora taints it, that version of her is gone anyhow. She orders some odd plant-based drink, apparently the only liquids they get here come from them. It’s fucking disgusting and she laughs at Adora’s horrified face when she tastes it too. Clean Brightmoon water has spoiled them both.

It takes a while for anyone to find the courage to come up to them. Honestly Catra is surprised it took as long as it did for a large looming shadow to fall across their seats. It looks familiar, though she can’t place where. She watches Adora turn and she’s smiling.  
“Hi Huntara. Was wondering when you’d show up.”  
“Hey Blondie, it’s been a while.”

Catra turns in her seat, not saying anything just yet. She’s trying to remember if she’s met this one before; tall, heavily muscled, purple and wearing what appears to be old Horde-issued boots.  
“First time back in the Waste since...well since we got that ship back from Catra.”

Yellow-green eyes land on her, they’re challenging, and damn does she love a challenge. Oh, she remembers her, remembers her running off carrying Glimmer and Bow after taking two paralysing darts. She remembers being impressed.

“I heard you were back in the Waste, people talk. It’s been what? Five years since the end of the war? And we’ve never had a proper conversation.”  
She shrugs, “Guess so. Made it difficult to take back I hope.”  
“Yeah you did. Do you know how many fights I had to win to take back control?”  
She gives a toothy grin, “You don’t sound too sad about it.”  
“Oh, I’m not. But I am impressed, everyone around here still knows your name.” 

She tries to stomp down that pride she feels, when they say she did great things, they did not mean it in the good way.  
“Figures I should congratulate you two, for saving the world or whatever.”  
“You don’t have to, we’ve heard it enough.”  
“I’ll bet. Still, think people seeing Blondie here hanging off your arm after you were hunting her down is going to raise some questions.”  
“None that they’ll get an answer to.”

She probably shouldn't have expected Adora to let her get away with that, and she doesn't. Although, it's not like she's going to protest the arm around her shoulders or the smug way she says, "Oh I think they might figure it out," into her ear.  
Huntara laughs and Catra decides that, yeah, she likes this six foot tall warrior.

Adora pulls back and Catra's about to drag her back in when she sees her face. Adora's working through something in her head and she's content to let her do just that. It doesn't take that long for her to say, “Wait so when you said you took over the Waste in a day, that wasn’t a brag?”  
“Nope. Well I guess you helped in distracting Huntara here, I got rid of Tung Lashor - still a stupid fucking name.”  
“It was.”  
“So you left it in chaos when you took me back to the Fright Zone?”  
She forces herself not to think about why or what came after. It’s easier than expected. “Oh entirely.”  
Adora falls silent, something close to awe on her face, it makes her preen again.

“How long you two staying?”  
Adora is still looking at her with a mix of emotions seeming to be reflecting a lot of thoughts. None of which Catra can easily read, but it's okay, she knows Adora will tell her later. But she still answers, “Day or two right?”  
“Right.” Adora breaks eye contact. “Catra wanted to get to see the Waste on her own terms.”  
She shrugs. “Figured this place is even more fun when I’m not being sent to die here or collect a whole spaceship.”  
“Not many people would describe the Waste as ‘fun’.”  
“I’m not most people.”  
“No you’re not. I’ll leave you to it.”

Adora waves at Huntara as she leaves and she does indeed wave back, a small one anyway. Huntara casts long shadows wherever she walks, even in the grungy lighting of the bar they’re in. She’s definitely intimidating in a way Catra can easily respect. Maybe they should come to the Waste more often, she wouldn’t mind spending more time amongst the people anyway.  
  


“You know, you looked really good in that jacket.”

They’re walking through a shadow-dusted alleyway when Adora speaks, it almost catches her off guard, but she’s been half-waiting for Adora to bring up their past regarding this place. And if Adora wants to skip over the bad, she’s more than happy to do so.

“I know. I saw you staring."  
“How could I not when you looked like that? I mean I was a little shocked because you just showed up in the Crimson Waste, having just taken it over. In a day. I’m, I just, wow.”  
“Didn’t know it affected you that much,” she chuckles, it’s smug and she knows it.  
“A lot happened that day okay, I guess I never really got the chance to think about that small, specific part. Felt too much guilt over telling you about Shadow Weaver and then what happened after…”  
Catra turns sharply and presses a finger to Adora’s lips, “No. We’ve talked about it. I don’t want to do that right now.” Adora relaxes as she's pulled out of her own head and Catra's smirk falls back into place. “I just want to think about how you think I look hot in leather jackets.”

She drags her hands down Adora’s arms, unusually bare in the desert heat. She’s not exactly looking at her face when Adora speaks again; “Really? Not how I looked tied up? Because I know you like that image.”  
She's just glad the heat can be blamed for any flush on her face. Adora hardly ever brings up _that_ sort of stuff outside the bedroom, but she'll be damned if she doesn't lean into it. “I do. You know I do. It's just the reason _why_ is bad but…”  
Adora grips her forearms. “Stay here.”

Adora kisses her softly, like she’s trying to draw out the bad thoughts before they fully form.  
“Okay, okay,” she breathes. It’s something she’s picked up from her girlfriend over the years and she can’t find it in herself to care. The next kiss isn’t as soft but it makes her head rush all the same. Catra takes her hand, before dragging her further down whatever alleyway they’re in.

“Come on, we’ve got a lot more exploring to do.”  
Adora groans, “Fine. But we’re coming back to this.”  
“Sure thing Princess.”

* * *

Catra swears she doesn’t mourn the Waste when they leave, she just has a soft spot for it. This isn’t the last place on her list but she doesn’t have any other concrete plans, just vague wishes, none of which become that much clearer as they reach the fringes of the desert. The red sand at the edge of the Crimson Waste gives way to green grassy plains, as far as the eye can see. Even in the desert, magic floated in the burning heat, it’s everywhere. The Heart truly did bring everything back to life. 

An idea hits her: “How about we see how far She-Ra’s magic got?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Let’s go to the edge of the world.”  
Adora laughs, “Really?”  
“What, do you have a better idea?”  
“No...Fine let’s do it.”

Their feet meet more solid ground then they’ve felt in hours. The smells shift with the landscape. She has no idea how, when or where they’re really going but that’s the fun part. Adora slings an arm over her shoulders once the clinging heat is gone. Adora turns her head inwards to speak to her.  
“We did always say we’d be together at the end of the world.”  
Catra shifts as well as they walk, gazing into the blue eyes that have carved out a part of her heart for them. “This way’s just a little bit happier.”  
A kiss gets pressed to her jaw. “Just a little.”  
  


* * *

Finding places to stay is easy. They have yet to meet anyone who would refuse to help the saviour of Etheria, even if there’s still some animosity towards Catra. She doesn’t blame them. The residual hatred seemed to fizzle out quicker once reparations had been completed. Still, this far away from the frontlines of the war, not many people have even heard of Catra. It’s refreshing having no reputation to live up to or prove wrong.

They’re staying in a seaside town, it’s small and quiet and had managed to avoid most of the war up until the Battle of Salineas, but even then most of it had escaped unscathed due to it being so far away from pretty much anything else. A middle aged woman with blue skin had offered them a place in a one-storey house she owned, empty since her son had left to help in Salineas. Like so much else here, it's small and simple and varying in shades of blue and white. And Catra loves it, such a way from the grand architecture of Brightmoon castle. She has always preferred small spaces.

And as much as Catra hates the water, it’s peaceful here, the constant quiet rush of waves reminiscent of her life in the Fright Zone. The thought doesn’t hurt anymore, she has long since allowed herself to miss it.  
  


Adora is in her arms when she wakes up, back pressed to Catra’s front, Catra’s hands clasped together on her chest. She’d been sleep fighting in the middle of the night and they had since found that the position they're in now is the easiest way to get her to stop. Catra can easily feel her muscles relax when she sinks back into sleep (and she always makes sure to stay awake until that happens.) The nights when Catra can get her to stop without her waking are the best, they make her purr her pride and love into Adora’s neck before she falls back to sleep herself. (And the purring only helps in aiding her love back into sleep.)

That same purr starts up again in the dark blue tinted light of almost-morning, rumbling in the back of her throat and into the skin on the back of Adora’s shoulders. She’s perfect, she always is, always has been. But years after the war, all her scars are gone, only white lines even suggesting they were there in the first place. Her hands loosen their grip on each other, one falling to the bed, the other to Adora’s stomach. She spends a few minutes, or maybe it’s an hour, just breathing her in. Adora smells like _them_ , smells like home and comfort and every good thing that’s ever happened to her, the way she always has.

The hand on Adora’s belly twitches with the urge to knead, but she holds back, draws her claws in as well. And she waits, content in the sound of soft breaths and waves in the distance. She doesn’t have to be awake for a day's worth of drills or battle planning or even war reparations. She can doze here looking at Adora or the flashes of the beach that she can see over her shoulder when the white net curtains fly like ghosts in the breeze. 

Eventually Adora stirs, it’s still early, sky stained with the barest amount of light from the stars and eventual moonrise. Her breath stutters and she twitches indicating her rising.  
“Morning,” she whispers into blonde hair.  
“Morning. How long have you been awake?”

Both their voices are dry and low from sleep. Catra’s hand twitches again and this time she gives in, kneading lightly and repetitively at Adora’s hard stomach. It makes her giggle quietly.  
“Don’t know. Doesn’t matter,” she’s still whispering. She doesn’t want to break this bubble they’re in. It’s like they’re encased in glass.

Catra shifts upwards, closer to the headboard before slipping the arm Adora is lying on out from under her so she can prop herself up on it. The angle makes it so she can brush silken hair from Adora’s face and when blue-grey eyes find her, Catra can see that small content smile grow wider. Adora blinks slowly at her. She does it back.

 _“I love you.”_  
_“I love you too.”_  
  


They’re walking along the waterline. Adora, shoes in hand, stepping lightly over sea foam that lingers on the sand. Catra watches her, she always does, doesn’t she? The light in this town is different. She's noticed it within the last few hours. It’s not bright, here at the edge of the world. The clouds blanket the sky and the moonrises take twice as long. Everything is just slower, calmer, bluer.

They’re awake before the rest of the world it seems. They’re still glass in this moment. Half of Adora’s face is faded purple-blue shadow, it crawls down her neck to her bare shoulders. They’re still wearing their sleep shirts as they walk silently, hand in hand and alone on this blue-grey beach. This might very well be the first walk they’ve ever gone on. The breeze tangles Adora’s free hair and part of Catra wants to cry from how beautiful she is, how carefree and happy, how soft and gentle. She walks like she’s not fully awake, like everything is a dream. And maybe it is, Catra won’t care unless she wakes up.

She stays out the way of the waves, unhappy with the distance between them but grateful for being able to watch Adora easier. The cold of the water gripping her feet would ruin this, and some things simply aren’t meant to be ruined.  
  


“What do you want to do today?”  
She glances around at the landscape stretched before them, colourful once more in the growing moonrise. The blue of the seaside fades into turquoise then lush green far into the horizon. There are rolling hills and tall mountains, pink and purple moons growing out from its peaks, the sky a mix of hues like a watercolor. Magic dances in the grass and Catra can see it, despite the far distance, like flames in the sky.

“There,” she points to a mountain, not too far with multiple flattened peaks. Trees hug the ground where it reaches its fingers to the sky, holding cotton clouds in a gentle clasp. There’s a plateau not too high, a cliff side dropping into the plains and it looks like a throne for a mythical giant. They’ll be able to see everything, everything Adora has done for this planet and the people on it. “Let’s go there.”

Adora smiles, love struck and soft and wide at her. Her sloping brows are drawn together under golden hair in _that_ look. It makes her heart skip a beat, for as beautiful as this landscape is, it’s nothing compared to her.  
“Okay.”

* * *

It’s nice to be able to walk without the weight of a bag on her back, it’s not that it was exactly heavy but she just feels lighter. All their stuff is staying safely in their little pale house, and it’s just them. While they walk through the woods on the side of the mountain she lets go of Adora’s hand to be able to jump through the trees. She hasn’t done this in years. She watches Adora who walks carelessly up the hill, using low-lying branches as hand holds when it gets steeper. And if Adora thinks she isn’t staring lovingly at her the whole time she’s a fool _and_ an idiot.

Catra calls out, “Remind you of old times?”  
“Yeah. Except you’re not going to tackle me to the ground right now.”  
She hops to another tree, closer but still hidden in shadow. “Oh yeah, what makes you so sure?”  
“Because you love me.”  
“I loved you when we were cadets, I still tackled you then.”  
“Okay, fair point. You won’t attack me because you don’t actually want me to get hurt, which _will_ happen if I fall down this hill.”  
She sighs, jumping down beside her, back on the floor of the canopy. “You’re so lucky that I love you.”  
“Yes I am.” Adora is grinning like the idiot that she is and Catra loves her so, so much.  
  


It takes them an hour to reach the plateau they’d seen from the ground with their childish hiding and chasing. The rest of the mountain rises behind them in grey and purple rock blanketed in foliage while the rest of the rolling fields spread out ahead of them. Catra bats away orbs of gold when they get too close while Adora lets them land in her hands like she’s holding a sun. It makes her eyes flare otherworldly blue.

The ledge is tempting but Catra stays close to Adora, feels the grass between her toes and the wind in her hair. She’s staring out across the world, feeling lighter than air and just so, _so_ happy. She can feel Adora’s eyes on her, she knows this feeling. Like the only thing Adora can look at is her. She’s always been blinded by this golden shine that Adora has, sometimes it burned painful enough to tear her apart. But now it’s this soft glow that harbors her, makes her better.

“Hey Catra?” she sounds nervous, unsure. She hasn’t sounded that way in a long time. Catra turns holding a hand out, Adora’s breath hitches and she takes it, the sound isn’t lost to the wind. “Catra I think we should get married.”

If the world keeps moving around her she doesn’t feel it. Everything is distanced except for the overwhelming amount of love in blue eyes, that lovestruck smile that makes her melt. It feels like there’s a tide in her chest that’s gone out, leaving her alone in her head. It only lasts a few seconds. Then the tide rushes back in as it always does and there’s too much of everything inside her, and for once she doesn’t panic at the feeling of drowning.  
“Okay,” she says, voice managing to crack on a single word, “Let’s get married.”

There’s so much _want_ warring inside her. She wants to tear into Adora, steal the air from her lungs so that they can breathe together. She wants to pull Adora in by the hand and hold her so tight their bodies merge into one. She wants to stay like this: hands held gently with that sea between them holding all the things they still don’t say, but have since learnt.

She feels tears running light tracks through her fur, a smile so wide it’s painful on her face. She can see it’s reflection on Adora as she brings them together by their hands, bodies pressed in a single line, foreheads together. And it feels like the first time, suddenly she’s five years younger standing in a plain filled with reignited magic. The world is alight and alive and the only thing she sees is Adora.  
“We’re getting married!” Adora’s voice is thick with emotion but they’re all good ones. Catra can’t tell if she shouts or if she whispers it.  
“Can’t wait, love.”

Then Adora kisses her, or maybe she kisses Adora, it doesn’t matter. What matters is the overwhelming amount of love she feels for this girl; her best friend, the love of her life. It’s all consuming and Adora’s hands let go to hold her face. Fingers grip at her jaw, like she’s trying to make sure this is real. Catra’s tail wraps itself around Adora’s leg. She purrs as her own arms hold Adora around her waist and back, as tight as she can. If she backs away from this - not that she has any plans of doing that - she wouldn’t be surprised to see She-Ra. There’s so much between them and the magic in the air pulses with it. But the light behind her closed eyes stays the same, the muscles under her hands don’t grow and the fabric her claws are dug into remains Etherian.

It’s Adora. It’s always been Adora. She’s never needed anything, or anyone else. She never needed She-Ra to be able to love her like everyone else did. 

They break apart only to breathe, finding tears in each other’s eyes. Their laughs are giddy and watery. She doesn’t truly know why it feels so different all of a sudden, she’s always known she would spend the rest of her life close to Adora in any way she’ll have her. Maybe it’s because Adora asked, and that she’s declaring to the world that she wants the same, or maybe the Princesses really have made her soft. Adora takes a shaky breath, hands firm on Catra’s face.

“Do you understand how much a marriage means? I know we’ve talked about it and stuff but not in that much detail and -”  
“- Adora. It’s a promise isn’t it?” She turns her head to kiss the palm of her hand.  
“Yeah...but we’ve never been too great at those.”  
Her smile is hidden behind loving hands. “We’re getting better.”  
Adora smiles still, unbearably soft, “Yeah. We are.” 

Adora’s hands slide from her face to her neck, brushing absent-mindedly at thin fur there. Catra feels her hands dig deeper into the back of Adora’s white shirt but she doesn’t let it tear. “I love you so much.”  
“I love you so much too, enough that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”  
“Was planning on doing that anyway, we don’t exactly need a fancy ceremony.”  
“Yeah, but it’ll be nice. And you get to show me off to all our friends.”  
She smirks as she lightly knocks their noses together. “I do like doing that.”  
Adora grins back before saying, “I know,” and kissing her again.  
  


The next time they pull away there’s no tears, just contentment and peace and joy that sits deep in their bones like a living spirit. Catra pulls her towards the cliff’s edge, ignoring Adora’s wary look - they’ve been on a lot of cliff edges before, but this time Catra promises it’ll be different. They’re doing it together and they won’t let each other fall. It’s like the ending of a beginning or something like that. And it’s all too fitting that at this point in their relationship they’re once again dangling over a ledge. Or at least their legs are.

The whole world is spread before them and Catra’s never felt bigger. Adora brings an arm around her and she sinks into it without hesitation. She questions every time she didn’t give into her. She could quite happily fall asleep here, surrounded by the warmth of the woman she loves in the world they saved. She almost does until the arm around her squeezes her tighter and she blinks back awake. Adora laughs a breath into her hair (up in a ponytail purely because she knows how much Adora loves it.)

“Catra?”  
“Yeah?” She sounds hesitant, she doesn’t want Adora to sound that way, not today. (Even if it is cute.)  
“Catra when we were in the Heart I had vision...saw a wish, really. It showed me what I wanted.”  
She waits, thinking Adora's going to say more but she doesn't. “And you didn’t tell me this, why?”  
“Maybe I was scared it wouldn’t come true... Or maybe I thought reality was better.”  
It's sappy and pathetic and it makes her heart burst. “Okay,” her voice cracks again on the word, “Wanna tell me what you saw?”

“I saw us, and Glimmer and Bow, older and in Brightmoon. We were all happy and together and alive, _you_ were happy and with me just like this. We were going to Scorpia’s first ball and we were all dressed up. I was in a dress and you were wearing shoes and everything, you had your hair in a ponytail. Yeah, that’s why I - doesn’t matter that much but...” Adora squeezes their hands together tightly. “Then Prime showed up and you know the rest.”

She turns her head into Adora’s shoulder, breathing slowly against tears fuelled by the love she feels, she’s not scared to let them fall. Some other time, when she’s not flying on this happiness and _too much_ , she’ll make fun of Adora for dreaming about them being together. Even if it’s hypocritical of her, even if that’s everything she’s ever wanted as well.  
“Tell me again anyway.”

“Everything disintegrated around me, Prime had won, he was holding me in his virus within a green void. I was going to die and I couldn’t do anything. I’d never been so helpless. And then you were there, reaching out for me, shouting that you loved me, begging me to live, and I wanted to. I wanted to live for you, not so I could save Etheria, because I really didn’t think that I could at that point. No, I wanted to live because I wanted to be with you. I wanted us to be happy together, even if it was just for a few moments before the world ended.”

The tears fall. They always do. She wants to look at Adora to see if she’s crying as well but she feels too safe hidden in her arms. “Why tell me now? It’s been years.”  
“Well, I think we were married in my dream and now…” She does look up at that, and there are glistening tracks on her face as well. Adora’s smiling like she’s telling her a secret, “Well, I am that happy, happier even. And I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted.”  
Catra’s eyes are glossy with more tears that pool there and her throat is thick when she speaks, “Almost everything,” Adora raises an eyebrow in confusion, “We’re not married yet, idiot.”

Adora manages to look sheepish through her smile. Catra pulls her in for another kiss, she can’t help it. Adora’s hand lands on the ground by her thigh and one of Catra’s hands holds her wrist tightly. She feels her pulse deep in her chest. Even their tears taste sweet.  
“I can’t wait to be married to you, love” Adora whispers into her lips.  
“Me neither,” she breathes back.

They end up in a strange embrace on the edge of the cliff, Adora’s head on her shoulder, body curled into her, their legs half tangled over the drop. But it lets Catra stoke through her hair and feel her breaths on her shoulder so any discomfort fades instantaneously.  
  


They lie back on the grass, staring at the clouds, hands intertwined between them.  
“You know," Adora starts, "Once we do get married you’ll technically be a Princess as well.”  
Catra sits up, glaring at her _betrothed_ , “You fucking take that back.”  
Adora grins, loving how easy it is to get a rise out of her even now. “Princess Catra of...well, I don’t know what of, but the title remains.”  
Catra takes her hand back, folding her arms. “You are the worst! Can’t believe I’m going to marry you.”  
Adora’s grin turns into a smile, still as teasing, “I mean you don’t have to.”  
She waits a moment before saying, “Yeah...but I will.”

She leans back down over her, fully intending to tease her for all she’s worth but Adora pulls her down by her shoulders and her words are stolen by Adora’s lips and tongue. And she knows this is so much better than anything she would’ve said. They stay there laughing and kissing and smiling (and sometimes crying although Catra will deny it if Adora tells anyone) till the beginning of the moonsets.  
  


* * *

It’s a few days after their engagement when Bow calls them, saying that he and Glimmer are meeting Sea Hawk and Mermista in Salineas if they want to join them. There’s nowhere else they had planned to go, ready to just wander the planet for as long as Glimmer would let them. But they do miss their friends and so pack up the white hut they’ve come to love. The woman (Selene) says they’re welcome back anytime. Adora transforms into She-Ra to signal for Swift Wind to come get them. 

“What’s got you so happy?” he asks when he lands on pastel sands. Oh, right, Catra had forgotten that the horse can sense Adora’s emotions.  
“Uh,” Adora looks to her for confirmation and it makes her love swell in her chest again. It has been doing that a lot lately. She nods - the horse can know.  
“We got engaged.”  
She thinks his jaw drops, but he's a horse so the expression is kind of distorted.

“Well that explains it then. I’m so happy for you guys!”  
Catra ducks out of the winged hug while Adora transforms back to hug properly. When they break away Catra points a clawed finger at the horse, “But you can’t tell anyone till we do.”  
He looks annoyed but agrees. And Catra still doesn’t like flying but being able to hold Adora amongst the clouds has never really lost its appeal.  
  


Everyone save Mermista hugs them when they reach the Sea Gate, even if Catra grumbles about it the whole time. Swift Wind tells them that he has to go, his face clearly saying how much he wants to tell everybody else about their engagement. He’s fidgety and on edge but he looks happy, it’s really fucking strange. Catra glares at him as he flys away but he didn’t, in fact, tell them so she’s not going to be plucking his feathers out any time soon. 

The walk to the castle is a cheerful one, filled with the tales of their travels. Mermista’s castle is as blue as always, and that is to say there is literally no other colour Catra sees. She grips Adora’s hand tighter whenever the corridor narrows and she gets a bit too close to a stream of water flowing from the walls and under the floor. Catra soon finds out that the plan is to have an informal lunch in the dining room, and she almost sighs in relief. They’ve done this before, it’s easy.  
  


It’s only at the end, once they finish eating whatever it is (it might be an animal but Catra has no idea and at this point she’s too afraid to ask) that they are all just talking. Adora keeps looking over to her with that entirely besotted expression that Catra absolutely adores. She doesn’t think their hands have let go of each other since the moment they arrived. The pin sits even prouder on her chest, she’s more aware of it than she’s ever been, mostly because Adora glances between it and her face constantly.

Glimmer breaks their stares by coughing loudly. “Did you guys not look at each other enough over the past few weeks?”  
She fakes annoyance, rolling her eyes. The facade she just made, however, is shattered by Adora who simply says; “I’ll never get bored of looking at her,” like it’s the most irrefutable fact in the universe.

And it disarms her instantly, her tail and ears drooping softly and her eyes widening. She’s said many times that Adora is predictable and yet...she now thinks it’s okay to go and just _say_ stuff like that? In front of everyone? She stares pointedly at the table as if it’ll hide the blush in her cheeks.

“Wow, okay that was disgustingly sappy,” Mermista says at the same time Bow goes: “Awwwwww.”  
Catra buries her face in the hand that’s not still holding Adora’s, elbow resting on the table. She takes fifteen seconds before turning her face in her hand so she can look at her. “Are you just going to say stuff like that now?”  
Adora shrugs but she’s blushing just as fiercely as she is. “Maybe.”  
“You guys are acting weird, did something happen?”

Glimmer’s voice snaps Catra out of her position and she sits back up sharply. She can’t help but stare when Adora bites her lip. Gods they’re both messes. One little (big) thing and now they’re acting like idiots - not just Adora, she can admit that. There’s really no point in not telling them.  
Adora starts, “We, um -”  
“- We got engaged,” she finishes. 

Adora would be glaring at her but the love’s still too prominent in her eyes. Catra just smirks at her, trying to hide how the word alone makes her insides ache. Glimmer’s screech makes her ears flatten and tail go taunt. She teleports to them, and then teleports them all to standing so she can hug them. Catra’s just thankful the feeling doesn’t make her organs drop horribly anymore. She can hear Bow’s immediate sniffles.

“Ugh, finally.” Mermista has her face resting in her hand, the picture of disinterest.  
“Hey!” Adora is blushing again. Glimmer lets them go.  
The Princess drawls in her typical manner, “What? I mean we all thought it would take half the time it did.” But Catra can tell she’s happy for them.  
“My dearest Mermista is right. But alas, we are all overjoyed for you.”

Glimmer waves her hands erratically, so much so Catra has to dodge her arms, lest she get hit in the face with glitter. “Okay shut up, my turn! When did it happen? Tell me everything!”  
“Few days ago on top of a cliff.”  
Catra huffs a small laugh and squeezes Adora’s hand (yes she had retaken it after they were teleported.) “Cliffs really are our thing aren’t they?”  
“Well at least this time no one fell off this one.”  
She gets closer to Adora on instinct, “Or jumped off.”  
“Or left the other one to fall.”  
She moves quickly back into Adora’s personal space, pulling her in as close as she can, “I’m never leaving you again. And it's going to be official this time.”

“Am I in the middle of something?”  
She regrets tearing her eyes away from Adora but glaring at Glimmer is always fun, “Kind of Sparkles.”  
Bow is still crying when he runs over, flinging his arms around the both of them. Catra pats his back like she doesn’t absolutely love his hugs. She looks over Bow’s shoulders at Glimmer when she speaks, “Do you know when you want the wedding to be?”  
“Not yet, we agreed to this three days ago.”  
“Okay, you have to tell me first though.”  
“Deal.”

“May I please have the honour of officiating the sure-to-be glorious wedding?” They turn towards the pirate who has jumped up from his seat.  
Glimmer starts sparkling again because _of course_ she does. “No! I get to do that.”  
Sea Hawk drapes himself across Mermista dramatically, even for him, in fake hurt. Mermista sighs at her _husband_ (why they let this man be a figure head of a kingdom is beyond Catra but at least they don't let him actually make any of the decisions.) “And you can’t officiate weddings anyway, that’s a law.”  
“Says who?”  
“Says me, I just made it up.”

Catra thinks if he could cry on command he would, he’s begging with his eyes and it’s pathetic enough that she laughs. Sea Hawk smiles at her, gods Adora’s (and hers) friends are weird. She realises they stopped holding hands when they turned, and she’d be mildly upset by it if the whole of Adora’s side wasn’t now pressing against hers.

She’d never thought she’d end up here, in a castle with friends and Adora loving her the way she always wished. But she is and Adora does. And Catra still can’t take her eyes off her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can’t tell Once Upon a Time in the Waste is one of my favourite episodes, definitely my fav season 3 ep - Catra got to be happy for like 10 mins and it was one of the best moments of my life.  
> Anyway the news about Brotheria shook me but since it’s not in canon I just ignored it  
> I didn’t want to use fiancee because it’s french so I went with ‘betrothed’ like an idiot  
> And yes I did manage to get the 'you and me at the end of the world' line in here because that shit hurt me in the best way  
> Have absolutely no angst after the last one  
> Also I’m not going to have access to my laptop this week so the last chapter is going to take longer than a week :(


	9. Make Forever Mean Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After waiting their whole lives, they finally get to be each others, now and forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta say I actually really struggled with this, especially considering the last wedding I went to I was like 6. But it's finally done now so yay

“So, have you thought about what you’re going to give her?”  
“Yes.”  
“And?”

Catra growls, pacing in the daylight that streams through the window, tail flicking wildly behind her. She’s not really sure what room they’re in, or its purpose but it’s small enough and out the way so there’s little chance of Adora overhearing their conversation. Especially since she’s on the other side of the castle. 

It’s not like it would be the end of the world to just ask Adora what she wants for her union jewelry, especially seeing as Catra herself is just going to re-receive Adora’s Brightmoon pin on the day (per Catra’s request.) Adora had even argued that she shouldn’t get her anything at all, saying that She-Ra’s mask could be hers. But she wanted to make something special, something that Adora can and will wear everyday. And Catra has been pulling her hair out over it - she doesn’t know what jewelry Adora likes, it’s not like it ever came up in the Horde. It hadn’t even come up in Brightmoon, not until they got engaged anyway.

“Has Adora ever even worn jewelry? Does that weird hair pin/dagger thing she wore to Princess Prom count?”  
“It wasn’t weird, it was mine and she looked good!”  
Catra sighs, she had indeed looked good. Any outfit that showed off Adora’s arms looked good, that was a given. But it didn’t answer her question, and besides it didn’t feel right for them. “Anything else?”  
“She’s worn tiaras,” Bow pipes up.

Catra snorts, Adora only wears them for special occasions and grumbles about it the whole time. She can’t imagine her wearing one for the rest of her life, though it would be funny watching her try and keep it on. And she would definitely try for the sake of keeping her happy.  
“Well, She-Ra gets those arm braces when she transforms and Adora did wear her sword as a bracelet until she had to break it.”  
That...actually isn’t a bad idea. Catra can feel herself grin, Melog even sits up straighter with it. “You know what, I can work with that.”  


* * *

To say the armourers were surprised to see her is an understatement. She’d never been to the Brightmoon armoury, not once. Not many people even work there anymore, one or two at most. Catra makes them all swear to secrecy about her project before laying out the design for them. She visits the armory and forge every day to both check on progress and help any way she can. Melog likes keeping watch at the entrance in case Adora comes by (even if there’s really no chance of that happening.)

She finds she likes hammering the bronze into shape and carving the details into it herself with her claws. She likes the act of making something with them instead of ruining. The lines aren’t exactly perfect but it’s meant to represent them, or something like that, so it fits. She feels stupid taking Adora’s measurements while she sleeps but she really does want it to be a surprise. She does as much of the work herself as she can but she’s far too new at this, so she lets the professionals puncture in the holes for the black leather ties and attach the padded fabric on the inside.  
  


Sometimes ideas will just come to her. One day, months before the wedding, she was traipsing around the edge of the woods with Melog and they’d run off, shadowed by blue leaves. When they’d come back Melog had brought her a little black rock they thought she'd like. And she did, loved the smoothness of it in her hand.

Later when she was sitting in their room in the evening she’d picked it up, playing with it over her fingers. Adora had her head in her lap, she remembered that. But instead of running claws lightly through her hair to aid her in sleeping, she’d been polishing that little rock till it shined jet black. She’d given the rock to Adora when she’d asked, watching the contrast of pure black against her skin. Adora had held it up to her face, saying it looked like her freckles. And that was that, she would get it cut to fit into the arm guard she was making.  
  


Finding the gems she wants takes longer than expected, purely because Catra has absolutely no idea where she would even get some. Glimmer tells her about the Brightmoon caves and Catra doesn’t have a better answer other than _“Sure.”_ But Glimmer is excited to go and maybe it rubs off on her a little bit. Melog lets Glimmer know how much she likes the idea by jumping on her anyway.

The entirety of the walls are lined in something sparkly and purple and blue. And that’s a start, she supposes. She needs a blue and a yellow one for her eyes, yes the idea is ridiculously sappy but it’s for Adora. And she will be anything for Adora, even if that means letting all their friends know how stupidly in love with her she is. They already know anyway. 

Glimmer keeps teleporting around the cave offering up different gems to her. If she finds one that looks right she teleports them outside to make sure it’s not a trick of the light. The process takes far longer than Catra expects but it is fun spending time with Glimmer and doing this. Maybe not so much the teleporting but they find the right gems. And while they needed cutting and reshaping to fit into place they’re as beautiful as Adora deserves.  
  


* * *

It’s late when Adora comes to bed, she does try to be quiet but she trips over something in the dark and Catra laughs from under covers. She hadn’t been asleep but Adora didn’t need to know that.  
“Did you see that?”  
“Of course.”

Adora groans, flicking on cold blue light. Catra's never liked how it takes the warm shine from her hair. She meets Adora’s eyes across the room, they’re glinting grey like silver. The air in their bedroom feels electric when they’re together. Just being alone in the same room with Adora anymore makes her heart start racing. It’s awful. It’s amazing.

She mumbles “Be quick,” quietly when Adora moves to the bathroom. The door off the side of their room makes a soft click as it closes again, running water starts echoing slowly through gaps in the door. She weakly fights off the drowsiness the white noise calls forth. 

“Hey Catra?” Adora says it softly, quiet enough that if she had fallen asleep it wouldn’t have woken her up.  
“Yeah?”  
“Where’s your badge?” It takes a few moments for Catra’s brain to catch up to why she needs it. She’s a lot more tired than she thought. She points in the general direction of the dresser and Adora kisses her hairline before walking over there. The gold disappears inside a red box and then the lights go out.

It feels like hours before Adora joins her in bed, settling into one another’s arms, looking at each other in the dark. Holding Adora at night is still one of the best things she’s ever felt but now everything just feels like _more_. They’re getting married tomorrow, of course it does. The thought takes the breath out of her every time without fail. It simultaneously feels like a dream and the most real thing in the world.

Catra yawns into the dark, a small mew escaping at the end. It makes Adora press their foreheads together and a sigh brushes against her face. “Hey, 'Dora, how are you feeling about all this?”  
“I’m okay, I’m good even, I’m not worried -”  
“ - _You’re_ not worried?”  
“Surprising I know. But I’m not, I’m excited and happy and I love you. I’m ready for this.”  
“Same here, love.”

With her eyes closed, she can’t see the faint blush on Adora’s face, but she can feel the heat of it radiating off her. She raises her hand to brush across reddened cheeks, just tracing the shape of her face like she doesn’t have it memorised. She traces feather-light fingertips down Adora’s jaw to her pulse, feeling the movement when she speaks, “I can’t believe we’re getting married tomorrow.”  
“Neither can I.”

They both sound awed, breathless with undeniable joy. They come together like stars colliding, and yet with so much intensity it remains soft as silk. Fingers in long hair and hands cradling faces, nothing more. It’s treasuring and Adora feels like a hearth in her hands, she feels like home. Somehow they get closer, where there was space between their bodies before, now there’s none. As close to a single being as possible. It’s more an embrace than a kiss, she just wants to breathe her in, be with her. Now and for all time.

“I’m going to marry you so good.”  
It’s stupid but she says it anyway, her sleep-addled brain doesn’t stop her. Her tail that had wrapped around Adora softens, is now draped instead of squeezing, and her purr she hadn’t realised had started up gets quieter.

“No, I’m going to marry _you_ so good.”  
At least Adora is stupid as well. They both laugh drowsily and Catra knows vaguely that she’s purring so loud it’s like thunder. They might not sleep comfortably like this, as close as they are, but they stay there anyway. Adora’s heart beats in time with hers and she’s still addicted to the feeling.  
  


* * *

“I love you.”  
“I love you too.”

They say when Adora has to leave in the morning. Whatever she’s going to wear has been safely hidden away from Catra in Bow and Glimmer’s room, while Catra’s is here in theirs. Apparently not seeing each other the day of the wedding was tradition? Catra didn’t understand it, but Adora wanted to go along with it and she figured it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. And they had kinda already broken it anyway. Gods she wants to kiss her, but they were told they weren’t allowed: another tradition. They aren’t allowed to kiss (on the lips) until they’re married, and while that’s only about two hours away, Catra knows that time is not going to show her mercy. It’s going to be the longest two hours of her life. They settle with cheek kisses, figuring they’re safe enough. (Also they’re not going to tell Glimmer about it.)

Bow and Glimmer want to treat Adora to a best friend breakfast in their room, mostly to stop the two of them from running into each other during the day so Catra is free to eat with her other friends in the kitchens. She’s always liked the kitchens, they’re warm and smell amazing. A roughly translated, _“Good morning,”_ from down the hallway alerts her to Melog’s presence. They fall in step beside her easily.

The castle has had a steady increase in inhabitants, all the Princesses are now here along with the rest of their friends. Catra is sure if they had allowed it, the entire planet would’ve come but she’d been adamant that it was close friends only. And while Adora hadn’t said much at the time having felt like maybe her duties as She-Ra meant that they ought to let whoever wanted come, it took Catra less than five minutes to convince her to be selfish about it. There were going to be parties all week for everyone else anyway, though her and Adora had been excused from several of them. (Honestly that was the best engagement present Catra had received so far.) Parties with friends are fun, parties with citizens she didn’t know, not so much. 

Scorpia and Double Trouble are sitting in the kitchen when she gets there. It surprises her more than it should, not that they’re both here, because obviously she had invited the both of them, but that they’re having a friendly conversation. They were all friends (colleagues?) at one point and she knew DT adored the applause Scorpia would undoubtedly give them. She just didn’t know they’d gotten closer after the war.

“Morning darling.”  
“There's our beautiful bride-to-be.”  
Somehow Catra’s not prepared for the hug she receives even though she really should be. She gets landed in a seat so hard it’s jarring. A plate of Catra’s favourite food is thrown in front of her, Scorpia obviously having ordered it for her earlier, it makes her smile. Scorpia is still Scorpia.

The shapeshifter lounges elegantly across the table saying, “Sleep well kitten? Ready for the big day?”  
And Double Trouble is still Double Trouble. It’s comforting. Melog curls up on the table as well, sniffing around for something to eat.  
“Yeah, never been more ready for anything in my life.”  
“Awww,” Scorpia has her big eyes on and while Double Trouble sighs, it’s softer than usual. Melog affectionately butts their head against Scorpia like the traitor they are.  
“All right shut up I need to eat.”  
“And then you have to go get ready!” Catra swears that any other day she would not have been so swayed by Scorpia’s excitement. As it is, her words have her beaming as she tears into the food in front of her.  
  


Every moment feels warped, the journey to her room simultaneously feels extraordinarily longer, yet takes only seconds. Scorpia, Double Trouble (and of course Melog) come with her, Catra doesn’t think she could prevent Scorpia from helping her get ready even if she tied her up (the woman having pincers being her main argument against that.) And Double Trouble? Well she doesn’t really know why they insisted on coming but it means a lot anyway. She had even offered an invitation to Entrapta but she declined saying she wanted to make sure every tech-thing is ready for the parties every night for the next week. Catra doesn’t envy her. But she looks happy.

She does try to get a brush through her hair, but it works as well as it always does. Even Scorpia tries but brushes don’t fit well in her pincers, and Double Trouble just laughs at it all so she wrangles it into a ponytail quickly without trying that hard. At least they turn to let her get dressed by herself since she’s grown used to actually having privacy in Brightmoon. (The thought of communal showers now makes her shudder.)

Glimmer and Bow had tried to help her figure out what to wear, and they did a good enough job. But it didn’t actually result in her finding what she wanted to wear. However, they did manage to convince her to try a dress - one that wasn’t frilly or sparkly or anything like that only because she had adamantly refused to. It was not exactly a fun experience, she had found out that day that there’s something worse than loose fabric that would constantly brush against the grain of her fur, and that was loose fabric that would brush up against her unexpectedly. It made her jumpy and restricted her movement and overall was just not worth how amazing she looked.

She kept it on long enough to assure them that she was not going to wear a dress ever again. To which the duo responded by dragging Adora in for a _“Once in a lifetime experience,”_ and she had to say Adora’s reaction may have been worth it. The stunned silence and eyes that looked like they wanted to eat her alive left (not all that) quickly and was soon followed by a laugh,  
_“Gods, how much do you hate it?”_  
_“So much.”_  
_“But you do look great.”_  
Adora had kissed her cheek before being ushered back out of the room (but not without another lingering stare that made her blood burn. She remembers the subsequent evening fondly.)

They returned to suits after that, much to Glimmers disappointment, and stuck to the dark colours she’d always worn, even if her favourite colour is blue. Because like hell is she ever going to tell anyone that, it’s too easy to figure out why, and she may be stupidly in love but no one else needs to know just how badly. Though, she figures, they’ll find out today. She’s not as horrified at the idea as she was a few months ago.

But even after that day, they still hadn't figured it out, and it wasn’t till later that night, curled in Adora’s arms that she remembered the series of little snippets of information she’d leaked about her future vision. From what she could piece together they both looked amazing. No, she didn’t have a full outfit from it, but she had enough. Burgundy shirt, black trousers, black boots, ponytail, something white? She couldn’t remember what, but she’d gotten used to bearing the white and gold of She-Ra so she’d figured something out.

Cropped white half-sleeved jacket with gold trim. It covers the tears she’d cut in the shirt sleeves making them short and raggedy, she’d turned them up so Glimmer wouldn’t have a hissy fit when she undoubtedly saw. Not that she would actually say anything on the day, but the look would be there. In the end neither Bow nor Glimmer actually had a concrete idea of what she’s going to wear, and it’s still her secret. And it wasn’t like Melog was going to tell anyone.  
It feels weird covering her arms when she doesn’t need to, but figures today is worth the mix of familiar and unfamiliar; comfort and discomfort. She doesn’t have her pin but she has multiple (gold) belts on her hips like she used to, her hair’s grown out again but it’s up. Small insignificant things that serve as reminders of how much everything’s changed. 

She’s still putting on her boots when she says, “Okay you can look.”  
“Meow-ouch.” She doesn’t say anything, just smirks as she fiddles with the gold cuffs at her elbows.

“You look amazing,” Scorpia says, she’s not crying but it would be incredibly easy to set her off again. It’s flattering that she’s so happy for her. Melog chirrups their approval like they haven’t already seen it.  
“You pick that yourself darling?”  
“Why do you say it like you’re surprised?”  
“I’m _surprised_ that you didn’t ask me to help you. You know my fashion is impeccable.”

Once again she doesn’t say anything, both of them know Double Trouble has been somewhere off the edge of the world for the last few months. Trackerpad calls are the only reason she even managed to get an invite to them. “Well,” Double Trouble claps, “We really ought to be going, sure you can handle everything?”  
It’s mildly mocking but warm enough not to annoy her, she’s missed their unique attitude. She hasn’t met anyone else like them in her life and every time she sees them she can't figure out if that’s a good or a bad thing.

“I’ll see what I can do.”  
“I’m so proud of you Wildcat.” 

The contrast between Double Trouble’s snark and Scorpia’s earnest speech is enough to give her mild whiplash, so it takes a second for the words meaning to actually register. Once they do, she agrees, she’s proud of herself too, she knows exactly how far she’s come. Not that she’ll say it out loud. Melog mrrps an agreement and one group hug later the duo are leaving. She’s not sad to see them go, knowing that within the next twenty minutes she’ll see them again anyway. Scorpia can’t seem to prevent herself from waving manically on her way out and it makes her smile widely again.  
  


Less than ten minutes pass before the door opens again and she doesn't know why she's surprised. Bow and Glimmer hadn't said anything about visiting her before the ceremony, but maybe she just hadn’t been paying attention? Either way it didn’t matter, they’re here now.

“Oh my gods, Catra!” If she wasn’t scared of ruining the outfit Glimmer definitely would’ve tackled her in a hug, both of them would’ve.  
She spreads her arms out, “What do you think?”  
“I think Adora’s going to lose her mind.”  
“She better, I’m wearing shoes for her.”  
“Wow true love does exist.”  
“Shut it Glitter.” The nicknames don’t infuriate her anymore so it’s lost some of the appeal but she’s too attached to them now to stop.

“You look amazing!”  
“Thanks Bow.” She smooths her hands down the front of her shirt and she’s sure her tail’s flicking with her own nervous excitement. She doesn’t want to be too in her head right now, so she tries to steer her thoughts back to the only thing that’s really going to calm her right now. It’s not a hard thing to do. “How’s Adora?”  
They share a look, not a bad one, just one she can’t exactly read. Glimmer turns back to her, “She’s...calm. I wasn’t expecting her to be calm.”  
“Yeah, she’s not even checking that everything is where it should be.”  
She huffs in a small laugh, “And that’s a bad thing?”  
“No, if it wasn’t so unlike her I’d be thankful.”  
“But everything is fine, all on time and ready,” Bow assures her and it does actually help a little.

“How long?”  
“Few minutes, but don’t worry, you’ve got time. We just wanted to see you beforehand as well.”  
“Well thanks...for everything.”  
“Catra…” She thinks Bow might cry, he’s still standing at the door, eyes shining. Glimmer beats him to it in a hug, arms thrown around Catra’s shoulders, any qualms she had about messing up the outfit apparently being ignored for the moment. Catra doesn’t hesitate to hug back, far past caring about a long-dead reputation (or her own outfit).

“Take care of her, Horde Scum.”  
“That’s the plan, Sparkles.”

She feels a splash on her shoulder and pulls back to find Glimmer crying. It’s not much, a single glittering streak along her cheek, but it means everything. She hears a sob: it’s Bow. He’s still standing in his place by the door, she reaches out a hand to him and he runs into the embrace immediately, Melog joining them as well, purring loud enough for the both of them. Bow cries onto her shoulder and she doesn’t even care, she’s too preoccupied with trying not to cry herself. Her chest falters with the effort.

“Okay, okay, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry till the ceremony.”  
Glimmer accepts this as an answer and backs off enough so that she can pull Catra’s white jacket back into place, smoothing the cropped fabric back into its place under the collar of the shirt before letting her hands drop.  
“You should probably get going.”

She’s still got something like five minutes but she takes Bow’s advice easily. She doesn’t think she can wait any longer. Then adrenaline that comes from excitement makes her vision sharpen as she grabs the golden box that sits proud on the vanity table where she’d placed it earlier. Adora had seen the box but not it’s contents, it was clear that Adora had fought against the questions on her tongue.

She turns back to them, box in hand, “I’ll see you down there right?”  
“Front row seats of course.”  
She crouches down and Melog hops their front paws up on her thighs. “You go down with them okay?”  
They nuzzle into her face before dropping down. Bow and Glimmer flash matching soft smiles. Catra leaves the three of them in hers and Adora’s room, knowing they’ll be waiting for them in the throne room when it’s time. The walls seem to move with her as she walks, flowing like a river beside her and bathed in midday light.  
  


She's not scared to do this, she hadn’t lied about that. She’s never been more sure of what she wants. But as she holds the golden box in her hands she’s scared of breaking it with how hard her grip is. She makes sure to keep her claws in so she doesn’t scratch it, not that it’ll matter if she crushes it. She breathes slowly, it works, she’s gotten good at it. She ought to thank Perfuma more. But not right now, no, now she’s waiting. And walking. They had decided to do this together, of course they did, that’s what they promised wasn’t it? Catra didn’t know how other weddings went but dammit this was theirs, and they are going to meet on the balcony, a few doors down from the throne room, a few minutes before they had to enter. Just them and the world for a few moments. Gods knows she needs it right now.

The sky seems soft outside as she passes arching windows, gold still litters the clouds. It’s blue and it’s pink and it’s calm. The breeze isn’t even strong enough to ruffle the thinnest parts of her fur. She doesn’t run, though there’s a definite urge to do so. She has time, she’s early and she doesn’t need to rush and...and it doesn’t even matter because she’s not the first one there. Her betrothed stands out against the light cream-beige of Brightmoon walls, starlight against a day-broken horizon.

She’s not prepared for the moment she sees her fully. Not one bit. Catra’s feet keep moving but nothing else even registers except Adora. Adora with her hair down to her waist, glowing like she’s holding all the magic in Etheria. But she’s seen Adora in white and gold before, she wore it to Bow and Glimmer's wedding after all. No, oddly it’s the burgundy sash at her waist and black and gold fabric arm guards (almost-but-not-really gloves) that make it seem like _more_. Adora’s wearing _her_ colours. The red box is held tight in her hands like she’s scared of letting go, her white dress brushes along the floor and curves it’s way over only one shoulder leaving the other bare.

“Hey Adora.”  
Adora spins round, smile wide but surprised, like she’s guilty of being here too early. The golden metal and dark stone of her diadem draw moonlight into her eyes and Catra’s heart beats loud as thunder in her own ears.  
“Hi.” It’s breathless and soft in the way Adora only ever is for her. “Guess we both had the same idea,” Adora says, breaking the quiet chorus of _‘mine’_ sweeping over Catra’s thoughts.  
“Guess so… Gods you’re breathtaking.” She hadn’t meant to say the last part out loud, maybe she relied too much on that whole ‘breathless’ aspect of it.  
“Well then so are you.” There’s soft determination mixed into the blush on Adora’s face.  
“Shut up.”

The box still weighing heavy in Catra’s hands is left on the balcony ledge so she can pull Adora in, burying her face in her neck, not caring if it messes up her hair. There’s a soft clack as Adora leaves her box as well, pushing in as much as possible. Adora’s hands wrap around her waist instantly and her breaths tickle Catra’s neck. She pays it no mind, drinking in the way her skin feels under hands that run tracks over Adora’s (mostly) bare shoulders and along the dips in her neck. She presses a single kiss into her shoulder and it tastes like a dare, Adora’s breath hitches with it. It feels dangerous and she loves it. 

“I want to kiss you so badly,” she whispers into Adora’s ear.  
The soft hand that lands on her cheek and pulls them face to face makes her think that maybe Adora will say fuck it and break that particular tradition, Adora’s eyes flick to her lips and if she thinks she’s being subtle she’s really not. She’s never been subtle a day in her life. Instead she kisses her cheek slowly, and Catra almost grabs her stupid gorgeous hair to pull her into a proper one. She doesn’t.

“Just a little longer okay?”  
She sighs, reluctant but understanding, “Stupid wedding rules.”  
“ _I know_ , there’s so many!”  
“You’re the one that wanted to go along with them!”

Adora laughs and suddenly it all just seems undeniably real; she’s really going to marry this woman. The tide of _too much_ washes through, it just makes her lean further into the hand still on her cheek, focusing on the thumb that brushes against the grain of fur before smoothing it back into place. She knows her ears are drooping with it, the softness of this moment before the storm that is the rest of the week.

“I love you, so much.”  
“I love you too. Don’t ever doubt that.”  
Catra can’t promise that, but she can promise to try and get there. The hand falls from her face and they pick up their boxes again. They leave the daylight behind them as they walk side by side into the castle. The crystalline doors seem larger than ever as they stand in front. She takes a moment to look into those ocean blue eyes, preparing herself to drown in them. Something like a battle calm settles in her chest, pulsing like a living creature.

“You ready?”  
“Whenever you are, love.”  
She grips the box tight in one hand so they can push forward together. Now and for the rest of their lives: together.  
  


The pedestal made of Brightmoon stone rises before floating golden steps, flanked on either side by their best friends. Glimmer is waiting ahead of them as she said she would be, long dress pooling before the throne she shares with Bow. The archer stands at her side, hands resting on Melog and Swiftwind. Faces Catra now knows dearly pass by in a blurr, the floor disappearing under her feet. Time is shifting again, eternity and instant become one. Catra’s whole body itches to touch Adora as they move, their eyes keep meeting in glances they don’t hold. It feels like she’s never needed anything more than she needs her right now. Water, food, air all come second to Adora. It’s a feeling rare but entirely knowable, one that’s been with her, her whole life, waiting on the sidelines for the moments when it takes center stage.

As soon as the boxes are down on the pedestal, Adora’s hands are in hers. She never wants to let go again. The touch is grounding, she closes her eyes to focus on it, draws her claws all the way in. Her world narrows down to Adora’s skin on hers and the way the wind that canals through the chamber pushes her smell towards her. It blankets her senses as she breathes, it makes it easier to do so. Glimmer waits for her to open her eyes before she starts.  
“We all know why we are here, to celebrate the union of Adora: She-Ra, Princess of Power and Catra of Brightmoon.” It sounds odd coming off Glimmer’s tongue but she bites back any remark she might make about it. “Which one of you is going first?”

“I will.”  
She has a feeling Adora’s going to render her speechless so she needs to talk now. Either that or her voice will break on every word and she’d rather that not happen. She needs Adora to hear this, needs her to know how much she means every word. The low wind makes Adora’s hair float like a halo, it’s not what she needs to be focusing on right now. The steadying breath she takes shakes on the way in. But Adora squeezes her hands and she finally meets her eyes again. It feels like an eternity before she can even speak.

“Adora, love, you know I’ve never really been good at saying how I’m feeling. Not about you, not about me, not about the world. But I’m trying, and I will never stop trying to be better for you, because I know that’s all you ever wanted for me. But the only thing I’ve ever wanted was you, in any way I could have you. As a friend, as an enemy, as a lover and now as my wife.” They both grin wider at the word. “You've always been everything to me Adora, but I burned out the thought of you for so long, that when the smoke finally clearly I was so _scared_ of what I'd find there. But it was you - it was just you. Even after I tried over and over to destroy the memory of you, you _stayed_. And you _came back_ and you _loved me_. And by the gods do I know it’s been a long road to get here but you never gave up on me, even when I had given up on everything.”

There's already water cascading down her face, sees it mirrored in sky-steel eyes. And maybe she wrote this down and said it over and over again, but she’s still rambling, there’s just so much she wants to say that she never did. It feels like a flood in her throat. She shakes her head, trying to remember the next thing even as Adora’s eyes fight to render her as speechless as she’d expected. She tries again, “I loved you before I even knew what love was.”  
Adora squeezes her hands, she can sense the sob that’s caught in her chest, sees it dying to escape through her smile.

“I don’t know if there was a time when I wasn’t in love with you, but even if there was I wouldn’t want to remember it. I don’t know who I would be without you. I don’t think I would _be_ without you. You may have saved the world Adora, but you saved me first. From Shadow Weaver, from the other cadets, even from myself. I always thought it was a miracle that we could love in that place, and I think it’s a miracle you love me now. I will never stop being in awe of you and I will never stop being entirely and completely in love with every part of you. When the world ends and there’s nothing left but stardust I will still love you.”

She can't wipe away the mess she's made of her face, hands seemingly bound to Adora’s, shaking lightly in her grip. But it’s okay, all of it is okay because Adora’s crying too. She’s shining with it like a star.  
“For someone who just said you’re not good at this, that was really good.” Adora looks giddy and hazy and golden and her voice is thick from tears. And Catra can’t wait to spend the rest of her life with her.  
“Thanks love. But now it’s your turn.”

“I know, I know. Okay… You mean everything to me too. There’s nothing I want more than to hold you and protect you and love you for the rest of our lives. But there are always going to be things that try to get in the way of that, hero’s duties and all. But I want you to know that deep down it’s just you, it always has been. You are my wants and my desires and my selfishness, the worst and the best of me. I have loved you my whole life. I just didn’t know it until it was too late. And even then I never stopped, not once, even if I know I should have. I just _couldn't_. I loved you so much it almost destroyed me.” Adora sighs, another set of tears falling. “Maybe things would’ve been better if I had just said it sooner and maybe I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But what I don’t regret is all the times I _have_ said it and all the times I’ll say it from now on.”

There’s that determination sparkling in her eyes, the glow that makes Catra’s knees weak. “Everyday for the rest of our lives?”  
“Everyday for the rest of our lives.”  
“You promise?” Her voice breaks.  
“I promise.”

Bow opens the boxes for them and Catra hears Adora’s breath hitch when she sees the bracelet. She sees her mouth a soft _’wow’_ and it makes Catra smile wider. The feeling on her face isn't foreign anymore, if anything it’s the new normal, if the last year is anything to go by. Her hands feel achingly cold when Adora withdraws.

She expects Adora’s hands to shake as she pins the badge to her sternum, but they’re steady. There’s so many things both of them are feeling but fear isn’t one of them. It’s so careful that it makes her head spin. She watches as another tear falls silently past still beaming lips, she doesn’t need to reach up to know that her fur is heavy with her own teardrops. The gold she’s worn for so long now sits light as a feather on her shirt, it might be the same but the meaning isn’t lost. If anything it means more.

Adora’s eyes follow her hands when she takes the bracelet and gently slips it onto her wrist. If Adora is surprised to find that it fits she doesn’t show it. She waits patiently while Catra laces the binding, tapping her on the arm when it’s tight enough. But Catra won’t let her hand drop, she keeps it clasped between hers, and so Adora’s other one comes up to meet them. A knot of fingers holding their hearts in their hands. 

“Do you Catra want Adora to be your wife, now and forever?”  
“Of course.” The ‘forever’ makes another tear fall; it’s all she’s ever wanted. She can’t look anywhere else but into steel blue eyes - they’re resolute and overflowing.  
“And do you Adora want Catra to be your wife, now and forever?”  
“More than anything,” it's determined, barely above a whisper.

A purr starts in the back of her throat and she can’t fathom why she would ever want to stop it. Adora hears it in the space between them because her grip tightens, almost hard enough to crush them. Catra feels like she might start vibrating out of her skin with everything she’s feeling.  
She only tears her eyes away to watch Glimmer when she says: “Well then, as Queen I ask the gods that your bond remains eternal and that your love will only become stronger.”

Glimmer nods at them, it’s what they were waiting for. Their hands unclasp their grip to pull each other as close as possible, fingers digging into arms hard enough to bruise. She’s sure they collide with enough force to rival She-Ra, and gods it’s a mix of everything when their lips finally meet. It’s like water in the desert and it’s like falling asleep in their bed. It’s home and it’s desperate and it’s _love_. She’s drowning in it, gasping for air through the roar of her purring. There’s salt in their mouths as they speak “I love you, I love, I love you,” into each other.

Nothing matters but them, not even the cheers of their friends that rockets through the room in a wave. The heat collected in the metal on Adora’s forehead bleeds into hers as they press together, breathing heavily in their bubble as the shouts continue. She can hear the clack of hooves and the celebratory meows distinctly through the noise. 

The hands on her arms release and their eyes open. She worries that maybe her claws have cut her but they remain retracted, she hasn’t hurt Adora. She swears, for what must be the millionth time, that she never will again. There’s no more tears, though the emotion is still there. Catra looks towards Glimmer and Bow, they’re both crying as well, and though Glimmer’s trying to hide it, the light sparkling on her face says it all.

Adora retakes her hand and drags them away from the pedestal, another clamour erupting from the crowd as they run through the room and out the door. Catra can distinctly still hear the cheering of their friends and the _“Okay party is in the other hall!”_ said by Glimmer in an attempt to keep things under control as they reach the balcony again. Neither spare a second to look out over the horizon, they already know how it looks anyway. She’s so glad they agreed to do this, she needs this time with her. She needs Adora kissing her within an inch of her life and winding her hands into her hair. Adora starts laughing against her lips breathily and that dizzy light-headedness gets stronger. 

“We’re married.”  
The words make her feel delicate, not the rough and clawing fighter she’s always known. But Adora does that to her, makes the two sides intertwine and keeps them there.  
“Yeah, we are.” Even her voice sounds floaty, she can’t tell if it’s because the fact hasn’t sunk in yet or if it’s because she’s just utterly and wholly happy.  
“Everything you hoped it would be?”  
“Better.”

Adora hums and brings their lips back together, it’s softer this time, languid like their mornings together. Her tail curls around their legs as clawless hands brush blonde hair over one shoulder so she can run her fingertips freely over the newly revealed planes. She can’t even feel the needle-thin white lines that remain on her back, there’s a little bit of relief that mixes in with everything else she’s still feeling. 

Catra’s mouth starts wandering, littering feather-light kisses all over Adora’s face, just because she can. Her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, her jaw, her neck. The hands in her hair scratch behind her ears making her purr return in full force (not that it ever really stopped.) Catra doesn’t leave marks, though she wants to. There’s no need right now, everyone already knows she’s hers and besides, there’s plenty of time for that later. The rest of their lives in fact.

“You’re mine, after all this time you’re finally mine,” she whispers into Adora’s neck. It’s more possessive than she meant, the wistful disbelief she feels coming out more of a growl. The pressure at the base of her ears makes her knees weak. She’s not kissing her anymore, just resting her head on her shoulder as Adora holds her close.  
“Catra, I’ve always been yours.”  
“Not officially,” she mumbles as a feeble argument. They stay like that for a minute that feels like an hour. “And I’m yours too you know.”  
“I know love.”  
There’s some ghostly threat of more tears but it remains that way. Adora’s chin rests on her head, arms holding her more firmly.

They lose track of how long they’re there, Catra thinks not more than five minutes. They really should head to the party, it is for them after all. Plus Glimmer will most likely teleport them there if they stay here too long.  
“We should go.” It’s reluctant in her own ears.  
“Don’t want to, I just want to be with you.”  
She ignores the way her heart flutters. “We’ll be alone soon enough love, okay?”  
Adora whispers, “Can’t wait,” into her hair and it makes her blood buzz. 

She has to completely remove herself from Adora’s arms to prevent herself from falling into more kisses. Which may have been the wrong thing to do because Adora’s pout makes kissing the only thing she can think about for a few seconds. She shakes her head, taking a step back, but smiling.

She holds a hand out, “You coming?”  
She doesn’t know why it makes tears shine brighter in Adora’s eyes. She doesn’t say anything when Adora hesitates, when her hand shakes before she takes it. And when she does she acts like it’s the most extraordinary thing that’s ever happened.

“It’s better,” she says, awed and reverent. Catra cocks her head to the side. “You did that too, in my vision, said exactly that and held your hand out for me.”  
Oh. “I’m not going to disappear Adora.” She rubs her thumb over Adora’s hand.  
“I know.”

* * *

The ballroom is already packed by the time they arrive, music quiet enough not to rattle through the entire castle, just most of it. Maybe they’d spent longer on the balcony than she’d originally thought. She’s glad of the wildness of her hair that hides the mess Adora made of it, other than that they look presentable. Only a few people see them at first, but another round of cheering breaks out quickly, Bow and Glimmer loudest of all. Catra takes her jacket off, the air suddenly seeming stifling.

They try to make their way over to the King and Queen but Catra gets tackled in a hug by Scorpia and Melog before they can. Adora gets dragged into it as well and she can’t help but sink into the warmth, even if Scorpia is incredibly loud in her sensitive ears. Glimmer and Bow let them be swarmed by hugs and more cheers (and a soft thumbs up from both Mermista and Netossa) before they finally make their way over to them. Catra sighs into the next hug, at least it’s gentle and not crushing. She settles easily back into Adora’s side after they part. There’s some weird look on their faces, mixed in with the happiness.

“Surprised we’re here?” she asks smugly.  
“Yeah actually…” Bow looks sheepish and it makes her laugh quietly.  
“I was going to go find you but figured if you were gone that long I might walk in on something I didn’t want to see.” Glimmer’s tone makes her roll her eyes.  
“Nothing happened. Unless you count Catra being really cute.”  
“Shut it Princess. And I’m not cute.”

Adora giggles lightly into her cheek, ignoring her glare. She’s not expecting the hand on her waist to bring her even closer, even less so is she expecting the sudden kiss pressed onto her lips. It’s short but she still manages to give back once she gets over her shock. She’s still not used to kissing Adora in front of people, she likes keeping her for herself, but she’ll make an exception today. Glimmer is rolling her eyes when they return to their previous position side by side.  
Adora scoffs, “Oh, please it’s not like you two were any better on your wedding day.”  
They both stay pointedly silent - she's right after all. 

The four of them watch the dancing after that, it had lulled when her and Adora had entered, but had since picked back up. Even Melog is playing with Swift Wind and Emily almost in time with the music. They’re far from the first couple to get married and Catra can feel the sheer amount of love in the hall like smoke. She rests her head on Adora’s shoulder, safe in strong arms, the metal on her left forearm pressing into her waist, reminding her that it’s there. In turn her tail has long since wound around their legs again. She hasn’t stopped smiling in hours.

“Let’s dance.” She doesn’t give Adora time to refuse, dragging her away from Bow and Glimmer and the wall they were near.  
Bow calls out, “Don’t forget about the cake later!”  
“How could I forget about cake?” Adora almost sounds affronted by the thought.  
Catra laughs quietly to herself as she remembers Adora’s face when Bow said she couldn’t cut the cake with her sword. It would be more mess than it would be worth, but it’d be funny either way. (It took Adora at least an hour to remember that she could just transform her sword into a smaller knife to do it. She'd been ecstatic.)

The ballroom is huge, just about as big as the throne room. And as much as she still distrusts open spaces, it’s nice to have enough space for everyone to dance together. It means she can keep Adora for herself. Her _wife_ looks confused when she steps back and she thinks it’s one of the cutest things she’s ever seen. But the look is gone as soon as Catra holds a hand out - a needless formal permission. It’s just the same as the first time she asked Adora to dance with her, except this time Adora doesn’t hesitate. Though that look that says _‘I know exactly what you’re doing,’_ makes the same appearance. She grins full of teeth.

They’ve danced before, not just at Princess Prom (that party was still a few years away), but usually it’s from within the comfort of their room when bathed in late afternoon light. Now they’re dressed more in white than red, and they see home in each other’s gaze rather than betrayal and a sea of unsaid feelings. Everything’s out in the open. The song’s different now as well, there’s no formal practised dance to adhere to. She can hold Adora by her waist and wind their hands together and spin her all she wants. She also doesn’t have to change partners, which she is unreasonably happy for. It’s not that she wouldn’t like to dance with some of her other friends, it’s just that she can’t even begin to think of being away from Adora for the rest of the immediate future. 

Soon there’s a thin sheen of sweat lining the fur at her hairline and both their breaths are uneven once more, though this time it’s not from overwhelming emotions or airless kisses. They pause only to down some purple drink Glimmer hands them, because of course it’s purple, but she still doesn’t let Adora leave her arms. She revels in the kisses Adora presses along her jaw, purring maybe a bit too loudly, and regretfully has to swat her away when she gets to her ears. They’re not alone yet after all, though the idea to just run without a look back is certainly growing in its appeal.

She kisses Adora harshly, once, just to appease her before saying, “Come on, night’s not done yet.”  
She brings them back to the ballroom floor, glasses quickly left on whatever surface they can find. A few dances later she lets Adora take the lead, she’s the clumsier of the two when it comes to dancing but Catra doesn’t care. She still gets to feel Adora’s hands on her. The song is slower and it makes Adora more confident in her steps. Adora spins her out before bringing them back together, her wife's front pressed close to her back, hands around her middle, just swaying them together with the music. 

Catra's thrown back in time, turns her head in towards Adora. She doesn’t even bother to try and figure out what feels the same, the only one that matters is how Adora smells. That never changed, not once. Except now she smells a little bit like her as well. “Remind you of anything?”  
Adora hums a soft agreement into her shoulder. “You drove me crazy, you know that.”  
“That was the point baby. Possibly the best mission I was ever assigned.”  
Adora doesn’t stop their swaying as playfulness colours her voice, “Wasn’t it your idea?”  
“Still needed permission.”

She can feel Adora breathing heavy through the fabric of her shirt. “Do you know how much I wanted you to kiss me then?”  
“Bold of you to think I didn’t feel the exact same.”  
She remembers the war in her head clearly; kiss Adora, kill Adora, forget about the mission, drown yourself in her, tear her throat out just because you can. The hurt and the indulgence and the playfulness she craved and missed respectfully, like an addict getting a fix after beginning a painful withdrawal.

Adora laughs, breaking her out of the memory, “How about we fix it then?”  
Before she can react, she feels Adora’s hand move quickly to her waist, beating her to it. Adora dips her as they kiss, sharp yet gentle, and oh so loving. A purified mirror of a memory and a promise for the joy they’re going to be feeling for the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I almost cried writing this, what about it?  
>  **Alternative Chapter Titles:**  
>  Premarital Snuggling  
> I Ugly Sob Because Some Lesbians Are Happy  
> I Put Too Much Thought Into That Fucking Bracelet  
> Adora’s Future Vision Outfits Changed My Whole Life  
> Glimmer’s Femme Fatale Catra Makes An Incredibly Brief Appearance  
> My Fic My Wedding Traditions  
> Princess Prom Lives Rent Free In My Head
> 
> Pretend they get a cottage in the woods and split their time between it and Brightmoon. (Also they go back to the beach house as a honeymoon.)
> 
> This fic is the longest thing I’ve ever written. More additions to the series coming soon lads - 4 more installments already planned ;)


End file.
